LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 





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[ARP OF HESPER 



SONGS AND POKMS. 



• 



I'.V 

MARY E. BUTTERS 



Hesper^ thy "lance hath touched with fire 

My Harp's lone strings, to -wake in song, to soar, aspire. 



* 



AUTHOR'S KDITION. 






BUFFALO 
CHARLES WELLS MOULTON 

1 89 1 




J 



P6 



COPYRIGHT, 

1891. 
MARY E. BUTTERS. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Winter, i 

The First Snow, 2 

Snow- Flakes, 3 

January, 4 

Doivn to Rest, 4 

Thy Laurels, 5 

Lonesome, 5 

No Spot Like Home, 6 

7 Would not Stay, 6 

Snow on the Panes, 8 

Tinkling Sleigh- Bells, 9 

77^ Blizzard, 10 

77*<? Toboggany Queen, 1 1 

Far -Away Mt. Li ope, 12 

J/y Home by the Sea, 13 

77/ <? Merry Sleigh- Riders, 15 

77/<? iW7£/ F^tf r, 1 7 

To- Day and To- Morrow, 18 

February, 20 

v4 February Fly, 20 

Blind Boon, 2 i 

Soft oer the Hills, 22 



CONTENTS. 






PAGE 


Where My Lover is, 


2 3 


Mary Hill, 


25 


Snow Pearls, 


33 


The Silv'ry Call, 


34 


Not Come With Them, 


35 


Greeting, 


36 


Where I Would Hie, 


36 


Spring, 


31 


Parted, 


39 


Symphony, 


41 


Silver Wedding Pells, 


42 


March, 


43 


Ides of March, 


43 


The Crocus, 


44 


A Spring Day, 


45 


Calling, 


45 


Life in Song, 


46 


The Choral Pand, 


47 


A Newly- Porn Fountain, 


48 


April, 


5o 


My Love, 


5o 


The Breaking of the Day, 


5 2 


Memory's Vistas, 


53 


When Clover Blooms, 


55 


Spring Waiting for Summer, 


55 


The Rainbow, 


56 



CONTENTS. 






PAGE, 


The Zephyr s Kiss, 


56 


Flotvn, 


57 


May, 


59 


May -Day, . 


59 


The Sigh, 


60 


The Printed Page, 


61 


Til Think of Thee, 


62 


The Warrior's Dream, 


63 


On a Birthday, 


63 


Farewell to Spring, 


64 


June, 


65 


June's Fronde d Forms, 


65 


The Murmring Song, 


67 


Sum?ner, 


67 


The Fern Bed, 


69 


Violets, 


69 


The Thunder Storm, 


70 


Love's Idyl, 


7i 


Earth so Beautiful, 


7i 


Laden With Song, 


72 


Good Night, 


73 


Pearls from the Sun, 


73 


July and August, 


74 


Autumn, 


74 


September, 


75 


After the Harvest, 


75 



CONTENTS. 






PAGE 


Autumnal Days, 


77 


October, 


79 


In October, 


79 


Blackbirds, 


8o 


Indian Summer, 


8i 


The Robin! s Farewell, 


82 


November, 


83 


Indian Summer Princess, 


S3 


Summer has Fled, 


84 


The Golden Egg, 


35 


Dece?nber, 


S6 


The Little Bird by My Door, 


86 


Kasotas Bridal Dress, 


87 


Fair Kasota, 


88 


December to Earth, 


89 


Fairy Elf Snow, 


89 


Frost Flowers, 


90 


Daughters of the Year, 


90 


The Years Farewell, 


92 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Sonnet, 93 

The Old House and Inhabitant, 93 

Ring Low, Sweet Bells, 95 

In Memory, 96 

In Memory of Myra, 97 



CONTENTS, 






TACK. 


Where Jessie Sleeps, 


9 8 


Mamie Dean, 


98 


The Reaper s Gift, 


99 


Jeannies Sleep, 


99 


In Memoriam, 


100 


Little Voyager, 


100 


Lily E. £., 


100 


Alice, 


101 


Tears of Joy, 


102 


That Gallant Bark, 


102 


Endymion, 


103 


The Gold of Love, 


104 


Sweet Roses by the Wall, 


105 


Expectancy, 


107 


The Sower and Mower, 


108 


The Incoming Tide, 


109 


The Night- Blooming Jasmine, 


1 10 


Her Eyes, 


1 1 r 


Go, Forget Thy Sorroivs, Child, 


1 12 


Sweet Peas, 


i'3 


My Cousins, 


"3 


Her Name, 


114 


The Low- Bedded Cots, 


"5 


Dream's Paradise, 


1 [6 


Love 's Harp, 


117 


Eternity's Secret, 


118 



CONTENTS. 






PAGE, 


The Daisies Mission, 


119 


Not to Exist, 


120 


The Mystical Isle, 


121 


The Rain, 


123 


The Temperance Flag, 


123 


Fulfillment, 


125 


Woman, 


125 


Beauty, 


126 


A Wish, 


126 


Our Baby, 


127 


My Madeline, 


128 


The Poet's Wish, 


129 


The Deserted Old Ho?ne, 


131 


Haste With Me, 


132 


The Slipshod Shoe, 


132 


The Emigrant's Fortune, 


133 


The Heroine of Wallscliff, 


'37 


Conemaugh Valley Flood, 


140 


Voices, 


153 


Song, 


154 


These Days, 


155 


The Spell of Beauty, 


156 


Angelas Bells, 


158 


Marie, 


160 



HARP OF.HESPER 

SONGS AND POEMS. 



WINTER. 

Where Autumn's robe in softer dyes 

Lay touched, the ling'ring summer's day- 

Lo, Winter's silv'ry chariot flies, 

Pearl-mounted, with his steeds of gray! 

The far-off hills, from purple shade 
Of umber dun, to mountain's height, 

Lie chiseled round by winter's blade 
In willowy, winding paths of white! 

Down the ravines lie folded o'er 

The dimpled forms of drifting snows, 

To low-lands stretch; from shore to shore, 
By river's bed, a chill wind blows. 

O, over all the earth lies deep 

The scattered pearls of Winter's reign ; 
But Spring again from drowsy sleep 

Shall wake to life her star-eyed train! 



HARP OF HESPER. 

Shall kiss the streams with tender breath, 
And bask them in her glowing skies 

Till all the hills and vales beneath 
Awake where life and beauty hies. 

Then shall the merry warblers' notes, 
So long the darksome winter fled, 

Come back, and with their swelling throats 
Re-echo far sweet Spring's bright tread. 



THE FIRST SNOW. 

Silently the snow falls, silent and pretty, 
Over the house-tops, far over the city; 
Falling so feath'ry, so lovely, one sees 
Soft little blankets hung over the trees. 

Over the garden-beds, ruffled about, 
And fluted and scalloped within and without, 
Here peeping a flower, there peeping a leaf — 
And to think that young Winter should bring them 
to grief ! 

Far over the mountains, all over the city, 
He's hung his white robe, so nice and so pretty ; 
While Autumn, yet blushing, reluctant to go, 
Lies veiled with her lover, the beautiful snow ! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 

SNOW-FLAKES. 

Falling softly, softly falling, 
Where a mother's mutely calling; 
O'er her bosom bare and brown 
Sifts the feathery snow-flakes down ; 

Frills with lace her body over, 
Sets her jewels for a crown. 

Now, in spotless robe and cover, 
Keeps the subtle charm of spring 
In the spicy breaths she'll bring; 
In the pulses without number, 
Keeps the mother-love in slumber, 
In the brook, the fern and fell, 
In the rocky crag and dell; 
But, from myriad world of wonder, 
And the flower-hearts beating under— 
Where the woodland voices swell 
Low beneath the daisied bell — 
Quivering bird-notes in alarms 
Comes a hint, the Frost King harms! 
Mutely pleading for more cover, 
In the mother's bosom hover, 

Fall the misty, answ'ring skies; 
Softly falls the snow-flakes over — 

Hushed all in her bosom lies! 



HARP OF HESPER. 



JANUARY. 

Cold in the slanting sunbeams' frosty skies, 
Her robe falls white as a bridal train, 

Decked out in diamonds. Each with the other vies, 
Sparkling across the broidered-ruffled plain ! 



DOWN TO REST. 

The snows lie deep upon a mound, 
And deep upon my heart the snows of many winters lie; 

But 'neath the covered ground 

Sweet flow'ring seeds abound, 
That heaven may wake to life again beneath its glow- 
ing sky! 

Nor raining tears but make me sad, 
While deaf and dumb to all save that the finer pulses 
thrill; 
A prisoner bound, whom God has clad 
Within these walls; where, sad or glad, 
No truth but Love's its ever-craving pulses fill! 

Thus have I lain thee down to rest, 
To sleep, my loved and dear; where flowers' perfume 
in sweets may vie 



SONGS AND POEMS. 5 

And speak my love, O gentle breast! 
In that the dearest, and the best, 
To Him who knows; immortal thoughts that never die! 



THY LAURELS. 

Life is a dream in the Morning, 

And Day the fruition of hopes; 
While crowned on the summits' adorning 

Lie thy laurels, where the starried Eve opes. 



LONESOME. 

I am lonesome to-night in the twilight's glow, 
While the winds go shiv'ringly, shakingly by 

In sly little gusts, like the driftings of snow — 

The snow of our lives that are chilled with a sigh ! 

I am thinking to-night of dear ones with a cry, 
Who have walked in the light of those happy days 
bright, 

But have fallen in the path I have wandered by, 
And faded as flowers in the frost of a night! 

I am mournful to-night, nor the twilight's glow, 
Were its airs wafted down as sweet bells from the 

sky, 

Could ring out in my brain the loved voices I know, 
Or hush in my heart the last moan of a sigh! 



HARP OF HESPER. 

NO SPOT LIKE HOME. 

What is home but one sweet spot? 

Where to rest, or where to roam, 
Buried all life's ills, forgot, 

'Mid the quiet scenes at home. 

Home, where all our moments glide 
Calmly, and serenely blest; 

Borne like steady ships a-tide 
To a peaceful harbor's rest. 

Threatened may be by rude storms 
Howling o'er the wintry dome! 

But within no tempest harms — 
Kept by love-light safe at home. 

Here at rest, or far away 

On the wild waves' tossing foam ; 
Be we sad, or be we gay, 

No spot like the spot at home. 



I WOULD NOT STAY. 

I would not stay where orange vies 
With rarest flowers in its perfume; 

For I should miss auroral skies 

Where Winter reigns in snowy plume. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 

I would not dwell for aye in climes 
Should all of subtlest sweets atone; 

For I should miss the clearer chimes 
Of varied sounds in northern zone — 

The music of the hurrying feet, 
The shout and frolic of the day, 

Where bright-eyed children gaily meet, 
And Snow King shoes for them the way ; 

The tinkling sleigh-bells that, unknown 
In tropic lands, would never bring 

Such echoing voices; nor their tone 
Charm the pure air with music's ring; 



And whisp'ring music of the pines, 
Swaying aloft by leafless boughs 
Of neighboring trees, where clinging vines 
Defy the wind that sobs and soughs ; 

The laughing and carousing winds, 

That shake and plead, that rove and sweep 

O'er hill and vale, where Winter binds 
The treasures of the spring-time deep. 

And I should miss in spring those skies 
The wintry winds had brushed so fair 

For summer-time; and autumn's dyes 
In fading leaf more rich and rare ; 



HARP OF HESPER. 

The absent song-bird's coming home; 

Their notes sound sweeter to the ear 
When back with roving zephyrs come 

The happy flocks, with voices clear. 

All these it seems were dearer far, 
In contrast. As the dark to light, 
So brightly shines sweet summer's star 
Against the deep of winter's night! 



SNOW ON THE PANES. 

There is snow on the panes and snow in our lives, 
And the wintry winds blow dreary, 

But the fire of love in our hearts survives 
As we snuggle close, " my dearie.'' 

The winds may blow and the snows may come, 

Of life we will not weary, 
So long as love lights the hearth and home 

The darkest clay seems cheery. 

There are notes to break in the deepest gloom, 

That sound so sweet and cheery ; 
And birds flit on from bud to bloom 

If we call them forth, " my dearie." 



SONGS AND POEMS. 

O the snow on the panes, and snow in our lives, 

Is a phantom false, as dreary, 
If the fire of love in our hearts survives 

And the wintry winds blow cheery. 



TINKLING SLEIGH-BELLS. 

Tinkling, tinkling, on they go, 

The sleigh-bells sweet of " long ago " 

Are back again. Their joyous ring 

A thousand hopes and memories bring! 

Go, Sambo, card the horses down, 

We'll take a ride to yonder town; 

Put all the jingling sleigh-bells on, 

And far away we will be gone. 

We'll bid dull Care to flea away, 

As merrily on we glide to-day ; 

The winds may blow, the snows may sweep, 

Our hearts shall tune to the sleigh-bells keep 

In a merry round. No bird may sing 

More happy than we, on the wing, 

As the horses skip o'er the fleecy snow 

And the jingling bells of " long ago " 

Come back again. When "Reub" and I 

Rode neath the star-bright, moonlit sky, 

While the tinkling, tinkling of the bells 

Was slower then than now, but tells 

The same sweet tunes of " long ago," 

With Time for our steeds, o'er the drifting snow! 



10 HARP OF HESPER. 

THE BLIZZARD. 

Temperature rising, 
Nothing surprising. 
By and by stronger 
The wind blows, and longer, 
And steadier pushing, 
Till a gale springs rushing! 
The elements are warring 
And Venus is barring 
The fair Earth in crossing; 
And, as stormy sea tossing, 
The waves of air meeting, 
Are striking and beating, 
Charging and clashing, 
Driving and dashing, 
Roaring and humming, 
A blizzard is coming-.' 

Now turning and lifting, 
Bolting and sifting, 
Whirling and whizzling, 
Swishing and sizzling, 
Crushing and binding, 
It rushes on blinding! 
O, what a battle 'tis! 

All in a whirl and whiz 
Over the land it goes, 
Piling the drifting snows 
High as a flood that flows 



SONGS AND POEMS. 11 

Deep o'er the prisoned wight, 
Shut in and out of sight, 
Where the Storm Demon led 
In his lone, snowy bed! 

Temperature falling, 
Colder, appalling! 
Now is its work done — 
Screeching and groaning, 
Shrieking and moaning, 
Droning and crying, 
Lulling and sighing, 
Sinking and dying, 
The blizzard is gone! 
The dark dav is done. 



Trembling and shaking, 

The storm-clouds are breaking, 

Rolling and fleeing; 

Now are we seeing 

How blessed in being, 

Comes out the bright sun! 



THE TOBOGGANY QUEEN. 

I sing of the feathery, frollicking snow, 

The toboggany queen in the realms aglow; 

Is sifting away, so fair and fine, 

Where the revelers shoot down the grand incline. 



12 HARP OF HESPER. 

The toboggany queen in aerial car, 
And king to guide by the bright north star, 
Are turning a wheel by the fanning-mill bin, 
While Boreas gathers and shovels it in ! 

The beautiful, bountiful flakes so fair, 

The toboggany queen in the realms of air 

Is sifting below, for the revelers fine 

And their frollicking fun down the grand incline. 

O, her wheel spins around in the realms afar 
As she sifts to the rockets, 'neath her 'erial car 
She spins, and she sings, by the star-light's eyes, 
For the fairy bright elves to toboggan the skies ! 



FAR-AWAY MT. HOPE. 

It is, O, far away where the snowy-clad hills 
Are rounded and softened, and beautiful frills 
Fall soft o'er the ground; where the daisies, my dear, 
Are tenderly covered till spring-time appear. 

Where evergreens cluster so thickly around, 
As sentinels guarding the peaceful sleep sound ; 
O, sweet is the spot where my lowly one lies, 
And the deathlessness stillness is all that replies. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 13 

But in summer the birds '11 ever warble again, 
The streams that are locked in their icy-cold chain 
Shall burst all their fetters and ripple away ; 
But me, lonely me, I must pine all the day ! 

All the day I am lonely, at night I must weep, 
When I think of my flower so folded asleep, 
Where never these tears, let them flow as they may, 
Can waken the sleep of her fair, dreamless clay! 



MY HOME BY THE SEA. 

I will build me a home 

Down by the murmuring sea, 

Where those I love may come; 

And strangers, too, who roam, 
May come and visit me. 

Chorus — In my home, in my home; 
My home by the sea, 
The low-voiced breathing sea. 
The silv'ry sounding sea, 
The music murm'ring' sea! 



I will bring to my home 

The treasures of the sea. 
Beneath the billowy foam, 
Where fairy sea- nymphs roam, 
Lie shells and gems for me! 



14 HARP OF HESPER. 

Chorus — In my home, etc. 

The monsters of the sea, 

The deeply, darkling sea, 
Shall come and visit me 
When gently rocks the sea, 
The rippling, dreaming sea! 

My home shall be so fair, 

And sheltered spot for me; 
No breath of wintry air 
Shall rudely reach me there, 
In my home by the sea! 

But softened winds shall come 

From spicy isles that be, 
And linger round my home 
When night, with vaulted dome, 
Shall brightly beam on me! 

And sweetly scented blooms, 
In my home by the sea, 

Throw out their rich perfumes; 

And birds with brilliant plumes 
Shall come and sing to me. 

And thought to song take wings, 

In my home by the sea; 
The sea that softly sings, 
And everything that sings 
Shall come and sing to me. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 15 

The voices of the deep, 

The deeply, darkling sea, 
Shall music softly keep, 
And lull me to my sleep, 

In my home by the sea. 



THE MERRY SLEIGH-RIDERS. 

Away they go 

O'er the fleecy snow, 

So light and gaily sailing; 
The horses prance, 
While keen the lance 

Of air sweeps by them wailing; 
Still on they fly, 
With a joyous cry, 

As they scarce can keep from singing; 
While the horses fleet 
Fly down the street, 

And the merry sleigh-bells ringing. 

Away they glide 
On a merry ride, 

Nor fear the wintry weather; 
Their tingling cheeks 
The tale bespeaks, 

And sweet the time together; 
While the lively team 
Barely leaves a seam, 



If} HARP OF HESPER. 

As they travel far and fleeter; 
And time in song 
Is whirled along, 

With the jingling bells completer. 

The new moon high 
In the western sky 

Silvers the landscape over; 
While the wind so keen 
1 las hilled between, 

And the young folks are "in clover;" 
They joke and chat 
Of this and that, 

As sparkling eyes grow brighter; 
Then for a spell 
Some stories tell, 

While time flies by the lighter. 

( ), the sleighers gay! 
As they glide away 

Are full of songs and laughter; 
While the horses prance 
In a lively dance, 

And the valleys echo after; 
Afar they go 
O'er the fleecy snow, 

Nor think of homeward tinning; 
Till in their route, 
They arc quite tipped out, 

And only tk stars ^ are burning. 



SONUS AND POEMS. 17 



THE NEW YEAR. 



Come in, New Year! Strange, glad New Year, 

And take a scat in Old Year's place; 
You are his new, his earliest offspring, dear, 

And so you must needs wear a happy face. 

Happy, because you bring us pretty toys; 

May be the Old Year lothsome gave to thee; 
We play with them, and little heed their joys, 

Because we are so blind we cannot always see. 

Alas! New Year, you cannot thus deceived be, 
Some future time, it may be many years, 

That we shall turn and long thy lonely gifts to see, 
If only to shed over them the wealth of tears. 

So come, New Year, and we will make thy stay 
As pleasant as we can, knowing the face of gloom 

Is only worn by those who mark not every day 
By some kind act, or make some spot to bloom. 

And, O New Year, come in by ev'ry humble hearth 
With happiness and joy, if such could be 

That war's alarms and famine fled from off the earth, 
And love and peace be joined in perfect harmony. 

O New Year, write for us no page we may not find 
With critic's eye, the substance of our motive good ; 

So chronicle the date of things that are to bind 

A nation's bands the firmer in bonds of brotherhood. 

(2) 



is HARP OF HESPER, 

Then we will welcome thee, and welcome thee we 
must, 
Whatever thou dost bring of sorrow or of j<>\ ; 
Aside from years gone by, in Heaven we put our 

trust, 
That never purest pleasures be marred by false 

alloy. 



TO-DAY AND TO- MORROW. 
To-day is but a Meeting breath, 

The morrow is our own ; 
Bui nOW we're Stunted down and dwarfed. 
And then we shall have «>ro\\ n. 



Here passing as a sleeping babe, 

In embrio that lav ; 
Beyond, tin- purple hands of flesh 
And the pale fiend Decay. 

And flying swifter than the will, 

Sure-fading as a flower, 

Bui all the morrow will he still, 
And time shall lose its power. 

To-day we gather in our spoils, 

Some hitter, some are sweet, 

But then they'll all he sorted out, 

Down by our Master's feet! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 



L9 



To-day Time brings us fitful things, 
And storms tli;ii black our way; 

Beyond us, God's own sunlighl brings 
Willi joy the perfecl day. 



VVCrc we l>ui children wiser grown, 

To-day might perfecl fall; 
In thoughts full flower, <>f mind o'erstrewn 

With pearls, Heaven's love gives all, 



20 HARP OF HESPER. 



FEBRUARY. 

Hastening on away, thy trailing steps break, tripping 

By lairs and dens of animals lying still asleep — 
Unwinding webs of gray, with silv'ry eyes, watch 
dripping, 
Awakening them, or stilling them in slumber vet 
more deep! 



A FEBRUARY FLY. 

A fine bright day this is! said I, 
When, brushing 'round in haste, 

I chanced to spy a little fly, 

As though 'twer bound in paste. 

£oor little fly ! I nursed it up, 

And gave't of sweet to sip, 
But it seemed to laugh at my paper cup, 

And tossed it away from his lip. 

Then I raised the window warily 

To breathe the morning air, 
When my little friend flew airily 
Away in the sunshine fair! 



SONGS AND /'OEMS. 21 

O, I seemed to sec his wings so bright, 
And his fluttering body go, 

And J knew not where he would alight, 
Hut it might be in the snow. 

Ah, little fly! that scarce could know 

How helpless wintry days 
Have held beneath their weights of snow 
Some life and love always. 

Some little things to passing eyes, 

Lying so lowly down, 
Heaven kisses sweet with rainless skies 

When wintry days have Mown! 



BLIND BOON. 

Once a blind little boy, he went wand'ring round the 

streets, 
With tin-whistle and mouth-organ in his hand, 
Till his body beat with music, as the rolling drum that 

beats, 
And his head it went a-bobbing to music through 

the land; 
A-bobbing, a-bobbing, to music through the land; 
A-bobbing, a-bobbing, till his head it went a-bobbing 

to music through the land! 



22 HARP OF HESPER. 

One day he found a friend, who was very good and 
kind, 
And he sent this funny fellow off to school; 
But arithmetic and grammar he did not seem to mind, 
And his head it went a-nodding to music that 
would rule; 
A-nodding, a-nodding, to music that would rule; 
A-nodding, a-nodding, and his head it went a-nodding 
to music that would rule! 

At last 'twas seen 'twas in him, the music that would 

beat. 
He was sent off where they taught it to the blind; 
And now the world is hearing how this blind boy from 

the street 
Is beating out the music that goes drumming in his 

mind, 
A-drumming, a-drumming — goes drumming in his 

mind ; 
A-drumming, a-drumming; is beating out the music 

that goes drumming in his mind! 



SOFT O'ER THE HILLS. 

Soft o'er the hills the twilight skies are fading; 
The sun erewhile, through banks of gold and purple 
laden, 

Has sunk to rest. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 23 

High in the sky come twinkling stars a-shining, 
And dotting out upon the dim of blue's deep lining, 
Sky's azure vest. 

Soft o'er the hills the mantling haze is falling, 
And, loitering in the field, the low-dipped sun is calling 
To home and rest. 



WHERE MY LOVE IS. 

My love is everywhere! 
My love is in the bee, the wind, the flower, the rain; 
My love is with the warrior who thunders down the 

plain; 
And on the battle-field, my love is with the slain, 

And in his dying prayer! 

My love is in the foam — 
In the sparkling foam of the deeply darkling sea, 
Where the gallant ships go down, the many wrecked 

there be! 
My love is with the widow, and orphans by her knee — 
Heaven spare their home! 

My love is in the home, 
And in the thousand things that Nature bids arise — 
From worm that crawls the earth to stars that gem the 

skies, 
And in the God of Love — the Life that never dies — 

From whence we come. 



24 HARP OF HESPER. 

My love flies on before; 
Is with the hardened hands that toil for daily bread, 
And with the little children who go about half fed; 
My love is with the living, and my love is with the dead, 
And up to heaven does soar. 

My love goes sorrowing! 
And to the criminal it beats the prison bars, 
Nor sees within the stains, the unhealthy spots or scars; 
It only sees the pure white soul, whom even Death not 

mars 
Nor stops the boundary of life, that pulses with the stars, 

Whose dust I do not sing. 

My prayer of Life's my love. 
It fills all things so full, to that which breathes or sighs, 
And thoughts are winged things of life, the unknowing 

mortal flies, 
Till Heaven has hushed as babes to rest, our Father not 
denies 

The loving prayer for love. 

My love there's nothing mars. 
It lives in ceaseless songs and never-dying prayers, 
And rolls on in the melody of heaven's eternal airs; 
And every living creature whom God has made it 
spares, 

E'en Death my love it bars! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 25 

MARY HILL. 

When first I met the maiden, sweet, blooming Mary Hill, 

It was many, many years ago! 
And now I call to mind, and page of history fill, 

To sketch the " o'er true tale " that grieved her dear 
heart so! 

'Twas in a quiet town, New England's favored own, 
And she the daughter was of a wealthy farmer there. 

The roses just uj)on her lovely cheeks had blown 
When Louis Baker met her, smiling sweet and fair. 

He loved her, O, at once, she was so good and dear — 

So charming and so pretty ever were her ways! 
But her parents they opposed the young man coming 

there, 
And so shut out the sunshine of Mary's happy days. 

Now, Louis he was worthy, but poor, and struggling up 
Life's ladder for some learning, and, too, for a name; 

And hard to leave his Mary, be forced to give her up, 
While out into the world he went for wealth and 
fame! 

But ere he went away he slowly paced before, 

And at the window saw her white hand rest her head. 

He struggled with his feelings against the closed door 
That kept sweet Mary pining, the rose of health 
now fled. 



26 HARP OF HESPER. 

This note her Louis penned her: " Dear Mary, I have 
loved you, 

And cruel is the parting your parents say for aye, 
And O so hard, my darling, it is that I should leave you, 

Nor can we have a meeting, to say a last 'good-by.' " 

No more now could he meet her, so guarded was she 
kept, 
Within the rooms to falter, and O to fade away ; 
So like the gentle being, until at last she stept 

Across the fettered threshold, no more to grieve the 
day; 

No more to grieve the night-time, with tears and heavy 
sighs, 
From her so loving heart; but to a sister dear 
She gave this parting word : " Lizzie, Heaven naught 
denies 
To thee, for thou art brave, and time may make 
appear, 

That he will come to thee, dear! It is my dying prayer 
That you should keep his love; to you he will be 
dear, 
Then sweet shall be my rest in yonder church-yard 
there!" 
And Lizzie kissed her, grieving, with many a falling 
tear. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 27 

And gently soothed her spirit, till stilled the loving 
heart 

And closed the weeping eyes for aye from life away ; 
From the beautiful of earth all time be shut apart, 

A victim to the worldliness of parents' cruel sway. 

Then Louis met with Lizzie; together by her grave 
They made a solemn promise; the night with dews 
did weep, 
As, bending o'er the spot, they to each other gave 
A seal to that dear friendship sweet Mary bade them 
keep. 

And Louis, kneeling down upon the daisied bed, 

Said to his Lizzie there: "The house is shut from 
me! 
But should you come to view the spot where rests her 
head, 
Look down beneath this stone, a missive you will 
see!" 



They parted thus, and years — a few had rolled away, 
While Louis studied law, and Lizzie went and came 

To visit Mary's grave, or through the grasses stray, 
And read the missive o'er that bore his love and 



28 HARP OF HESPER. 

Shy skipping o'er the ground, she hastened onward 
home; 
And tucked the precious letter safely now away, 
Until again to Mary's lonely grave had come, 

Her tears upon the stone she wept, as neath her 
answer lay. 

But, O, they were discovered, the day might hid for 
shame, 
And shut out blushing beauty from every bud and 
bloom! 
Her father he was angry, her mother, too, the same — 
And they imprisoned her within her lonely room. 

But Love, he ever laughs at locks and bars, 'tis said! 

The little white-winged missives fluttered airy down; 
The moon smiled in her beauty, and kissed brave 
Lizzie's head; 
And tinted bright her dreams without a shade of 
frown! 



And Louis, he contrived to send a message there, 
Although I never knew exactly how 'twas done; 

But I do think a fairy flew up the lover's stair, 

And sealed with secret kisses the threshold for each 
one! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 29 

For months now Lizzie lived a prisoner in her room, 
And fed her heart on secret love; on Hope's wings 
flew 
In freedom out; as in came billet-doux, shot bloom 
Upon her cheeks. She mocked with scorn the 
hands that drew 

Such strict parental lines; while Louis gifted was in 
art, 
To captivate with song, and many a daring tale, 
And keep astir the lagging of her so lonely part, 

Until the time should come kind Fortune would 
prevail! 

And thus that Louis sang: "I come, my lady, bright 
and fair; 

My steed is shod in dusk, with the stillness of down; 
I speed o'er the valleys, silv'ry- winged on air; 

And I fetter the glance of the moonbeams down ! 

" I rein to thy window, thy castle, my love, 
I turn all the bolts with a magical key, 

While the stars are twinkling so brightly above, 
I climb the dim ladder sweet Hope gives to me." 

The soft-scented wind parts the curtain away 

By the apple tree's bough, full-budded in blooms, 

And the robin's nest trembles by the bending spray 
That nods to the quiet of my lady's lone rooms! 



30 HARP OF HESFER. 

But hush! for thy slumbers are sweet as to child 
In innocense clasped; thy dreams are of me! 

I linger in the softened air's sweetness beguiled, 
And rest in the Presence o'ershadowing thee! 

I leave thee to sleep in the jeweled night's arms, 

And dream that dear days, in thy slumbers come 
nigh, 

While night like to this so beautifully charms 
Thy lover to pause. Where the wind's low sigh 

Calls me on and away; where the lone grasses sweep, 
Wave-tossed to her grave! O, there will I bend 

And pour out my soul with the skies that must weep, 
Sweet Mary, loved Mary! thy unforboded end. 

Farewell! In the dreams of the one bright and brave 
Lies a resolute purpose to stem Life's tide; 

But the dream that is stilled in my Mary's lone grave 
Is a stainless thought of the pure spirit's bride! 

Murmur near, ye loved sounds! Ye flowers, kiss in sighs 
The spot where she slumbers. Bedew with thy tears, 

O, beautiful night! Shimmer down ye soft skies 
And rest on the spot sweet memory endears. 

Nor need of marble stone ; thy name engraved were 
On mind's uncrumbling scroll! Ye hills low bow, 

Trees wave and music roll sad anthems where 

She sleeps, all unheeding my tears' constant flow. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 31 

Farewell! and the world is calling me away, 

While fame sounds her trumpet my name to enroll, 

As real in life the thought, sad haunting of the day, 
Sweet love, thy prison door let 'scape a stainless soul. 

Farewell! this loved night is an echo of sweet song; 

My heart is beating back a symphony on bars 
Of music loved and lost, till it trembles along 

And is caught in the life of the untra versed stars. 



Now Lizzie's parents wise, they found the secret out, 
Of little fluttering missives going up and down, 

And they forbade it all, and guarded her about 

So closely by, that fate were wont to cruel frown. 

But Louis, too, was shrewd, and honest as for love; 

He made his last chance, count him O so well; 
And Lizzie played her part so nice the truth could but 
approve, 
Nor even did by word or look the secret plan 
foretell. 

So yielding she, and good ; nor even once she tried 
To cross her mother's wishes. Her father then, 
nothing found 

Against the girl going out, as many weeks had tied 
Her so. The neighbors talked ; the time came round, 



X2 HARP OF HESPER. 

They took her out to church, and Louis he was there, 
And published had the bans been, now for weeks, 

All unbeknown; 'twas slipped behind one snug with 
care, 
The notice, and the act was such as justice seeks. 

And Louis took his lady on his arm and walked away, 
To their astonishment; they did but think a ruse, 

To brave with public gaze the parents' pride to stay, 
And with such favored time to make up for abuse. 

But now the time had come, bravely to have it said; 

They jumped into a carriage and rode for love away, 
On to a Squire's house, and soon now were they wed, 

Where all proclaimed with joy the happy wedding 
day! 

Excepting the parents of Lizzie, whom they'd rather 
kept in prison ; 
And they stayed for many years from them away, 
Until now, Louis, by law, to wealth and fame had 
risen, 
And blotted out the past of Life's uneven way. 

"All's well that ends well." Then, the parents were 
forgiven, 
And days oft found them speeding to Lizzie's home 
away ; 
And drop a tear, thou ! Sweet Mary's grave lost sight of 
was by heaven 
Of loving ties on earth, as sheaves, sun-kissed, through 
golden summer's day. 



SONUS AND POEMS. 33 

SNOW PEARLS. 

() the pearls, the pearls, 
My pretty, pretty pearls! 
I must not brush away 
That on the door-step lay 
In little shiny whirls ; 
No, I must let them stay. 

Hut naughty, beaming sun 
Will spoil them every one, 
My darling little whirls, 
My pretty, pretty pearls, 
Thau others I have none! 
Fate mocks me with its quirls, 

With all such fairy things, 
With wealth that nature brings, 
Ah, who shall say me nay? 
Not bird by yonder way, 
That so divinely sings, 
My own heart does it say. 

The beaming sun of spring 
Is melting these I sing, 
And friends of summer's day, 
When winter binds the way, 
Come round us cold and bright 
Till moved by glowing light ! 
(3) 



:tl HARP OF HESPER. 

A ikI i lius affection may, 
Melted by tears, docs stay, 
For who can say the lighl 
.Shut in the jewel bright, 
So cold, doth Hash apart, 
Lives not in Pity's heart ! 



THE SILV'RY CALL. 

" Darling, the days go by so slow — 
The silv'ry bells of time are ringing 
In cadence clear ; when shall I hear 

Those other hells 

My love foretells 

Shall wake for me the sweetest singing 
My heart, dear one, can ever know? 

"Darling, the spring-time surely'll How, 

The Bowers of love shall swcctlv Mow, 
And softly fall the silv'ry call 

As magic of the bluebells springing, 

When thrush's sky note 
.Swells from sweet throat, 
And all the little hrood ate Singing, 
And thus love's bells call sweet and low. 11 



80 NO 8 AND POEMS. 88 

Nor COME Willi THEM. 

When Spring shall come again, sweet smiling spring! 

And all the birds, : m < I bees, .- n i < I fairy flowers 
Shall come, and shady singing vales shall ring 

With pleasanl sounds the long sunshiny hours, 
Thou cansl n<>i come with them I O, dear, remembered 
friend, 

Wh<> left ere spring-time's I >u< Is had bursted fair, 
Or babbling brook did tell-tale music blend 

With slumb'rous notes thai charm the sweetly ambienl 
air, 



Ne'er more upon the vel vet -bedded lurf ;il morn 
Shall thy deal - steps so lightly trip away! 

( )nl\ as echo, I hear llie softest skip-like faun, 

Or music of a well-known step, the livelong day. 

I lay me down at night, thinking thou maysl be nigh, 

And dream I see thy sweetly saddened eyes 

Bent down. Grievesl thou my tend'resl breath of sigh? 

I waken from my angel gone, in sad surprise. 



And Spring no more can blend again its charms for me, 

Nor music of the brook I love to hear so well 
('an ripple on SO sweet. No more thy face I see 
Beyond tin- purple, shades of misty fern and fell, 



II A IIP OF HESPER. 



The slowly dying day and deepening night, 
Away beyond the holy, vestal stars of even, 

Till dawn again a life-time, radiant and bright, 

When steps across my angel one, the golden bars of 



GREETING. 

To Flossie. 

The bee loves so the bonny flower 
He kisses, and flies afar away; 

And sports him in the morning hour 
Gath'ring sweets for one bright day. 

Thus I love thee! and roving afar 
My thoughts to seek, if thou dost know 

How much. Nor space, nor time can bar 
The sweet delights thy life doth show. 



WHERE I WOULD HIE. 

To Dora. 

Sang a lady in the twilight fair, 
With the purple shades upon her hair, 
And the love-light brightening in her eye 
As a breath of south winds floated by : 



SONGS AND POEMS. 37 

" Way down south, where the roses bloom, 
And the air is fragrant with perfume, 
Where the birds sing sweetly all the day. 
O, it is there, I would hie away, 

"Where the orange blooms and birdies sing, 
Making all the valleys ring ! 
We in north-lands only hear 
Their silvery notes half of the year. 

" Way up north where the icebergs flow! 
And the sledges dancing in the snow; 
When the walrus swims mid the shining ice, 
And the Esquimeau lives so snug and nice; 

"But there I would not love to hie, 
When southward all sweet song-birds fly, 
And jasmine, sweet, perfumes the air, 
O, I would love to linger there!" 



SPRING. 



Spring, I know that thou art coming! 
For it seems all nature's humming, 
With the woodland chorus drumming; 
Over field and over flood, 
Where so grim the sentries stood, 
Comes an ever ceaseless humming, 
For the joyous spring is coming. 



:w 



HARP OF HESPER, 



( ), the many, many pleasures 
That are coming with her treasures; 
Only Time her quick step measures, 
Bringing balmy air, and sweet, 
Where the children gaily meet 
Bonny lads and maidens, singing, 

For thev know what she is bringing! 

Soon the crocus will be peeping, 

Where so long it lias been sleeping — 

For Bweet spring its beauty keeping; 

And its downy, purple bell 

Be the first the tale to tell— 

With the birds and bees in humming 

For the joyous spring is comingl 

Spring must have a garment, fairest, 
Woven in all Rowers the rarest 

Lavish Nature nothing sparest! 

Mantling forms with her be trailing, 
Shim'ring veil of cloudlets sailing 

Softly o'er a sea of blue; 

Magic sunbeams glancing through, 
Flooding all in light so golden, 

Comes the fail \ Spring of olden. 



Little birdling, tlv to meet her; 
Little brooklet, run to greet her; 
Brook and birdling sing her praises, 

Nestled di>w u among the daisies: 



SONGS AND POEMS. 80 

Sing, () starling mid the clover, 
Lark that soars the mountain over! 

Sing for maiden, and for lover, 

Woo the l>almy breath of Spring) 

Whom doth poel Love to sin^, 

All your sweetest treasures bringing 

Fondest heart, to bird a-winging, 

Where her lightsome step is springing] 



PARTED. 

7h a Lady. 

Too beautiful to lay away 

Within the cold earth's sod. 
Wherever he does roam to day, 

I know not, hut my God, 
I trust, will keep him still my own 

In some diviner clime, 
Some fair abode — the spirit's home, 

To meet again some time. 

Ah hut, dear soul, it is not all 

The Living for the: dead ; 
Do let the raining tear-drops fall, 

I Jut when all hope has (led. 
Thy own, my friend, may come to thee, 

But mine can never come 
Within the walks where 1 shall he 

The precincts <>i my home. 



40 HARP OF HESPER. . 

His cheerful voice will sound no more, 

His steps no more be heard, 
Nor smiles to meet me at the door 

With the ever welcome word. 
Ah, no! but in some fairer clime 

It may be that he dwells; 
But barred and locked the doors of time, 

Nor aught the secret tells! 



But when the sky upon the hills 

Shall lay the folds of spring, 
And music gushes from the rills, 

The birds begin to sing, 
The robin piping in the tree, 

The bluebird in the hedge, 
And little "house-wife" merrily 

Shall build near by the ledge! 

The blue-jay scream, the meadow-lark 

Sing sweetly o'er the way; 
O, then, my soul, thou canst but hark 

And list what Nature '11 say! 
When all her voices sweetly rise 

Upon the balmy air, 
Then would I sing her lovely skies, 

Her valleys teeming fair. 

Her forests and the rippling streams 

That bubble on in praise, 
With notes of bird, and sun's bright beams, 

To charm the lengthening days! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 41 

Then will I hie to some retreat, 
Some half-hushed, echoing- spot, 

And I will list heaven's music beat 
* With the minor key forgot, 

Or held so by a master hand, 
Its notes might sweetly blend, 

And vibrate with the million band, 
And up to heaven ascend! 

And call my loved one back to me ; 

In spirit thought to rove, 
In nature's haunts we loved to be, 

Where all things speak his love; 
Then shall I feel that Time and Death 

The mortal dust may sever; 
And stilled may be the fleeting breath, 

But Love lives on forever! 



SYMPHONY. 

O, man was once an angel, 

But dropped his shining wings 
To find the heavenly symphony 

Of less diviner things! 
Thus god-like man awakening, 

Reveals the deeper part, 
And strikes the eternal harmony 

Through Nature's beating heart! 



42 HARP OF HESPER. 

SILVER WEDDING BELLS. 

To Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Pearce. 

The silv'ry bells of Time are ringing 

With voices clear; 

And, lo! I hear 

Those other bells, 

The wedding bells, 
Upon the air as echoes singing! 

They sing of love — fond, true, abiding — 

When she, a bride, 

Sat by his side, 

As with Time's oar 

They pulled from shore 
And down Life's blissful seas went gliding. 

A prosperous breeze the sails unfurling, 

And brightened skies 

With love-lit eyes 

Bespoke a crew 

Of boys a few, 
And girls that set the seas a-whirling. 

So now again the bells are ringing! 

The silv'ry bells, 

Sweet love foretells, 

And girls and boys 

Their parents' joys 
Re-echo on, Time's voices singing. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 43 



MARCH. 

The sun bent o'er and kissed, one day, 
The earth with glory's melting blue; 

Soon clouds obscured the sky with gray, 
And suddenly the wild winds blew! 



All in a whirligig, 

O what a mazy jig! 
Round and round the house it goes; 
First it storms, and then it blows, 
And then sifts high, the mocking snows. 

Heigho! the carnival, 

Dusting the valleys full, 
Sweeping the house-tops to the ground, 
Raves and roars the hill-tops round, 
Over and over the banks it blows, 
Whirling them round as on it goes. 



IDES OF MARCH. 

The sun comes up the slender slopes 
Of eastern skies. Where morning opes, 
Pale gray, with pink, floats through the haze 
And hints of many-hued, pearly days. 



44 HARP OF HESPER. 

THE CROCUS. 

Poor little goslings! purple-dyed, 
And wrapped in downy feathers, 

That burst upon us open-eyed, 
Defying wind and weather. 

There is no flower so peaceful lies 
Within the ground's cold ashes, 

And none that ope such merry eyes 
When Spring doth lift its lashes. 

They come upon us unaware, 
With heads so slick and curly, 

And pop up with a lightsome air, 
As much's to say, " wer'e early." 

O little downy, lissome things, 
Wee birdies coyly rising, 

If only all you had some wings 
It would not be surprising. 

But you would flutter far away, 
And leave the children cheerless; 

So you must bide with them to stay, 
And help them to be fearless; 

To keep a cheerful, happy face, 
As snuggling so together, 

'Til April's sunny smiles shall chase 
The wintry winds and weather. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 45 

A SPRING DAY. 

The sky is soft and blue, 

The clouds float hazy by, 
And sweetly to my view 

Comes Spring's most glorious sky! 

The distant landscapes change, 

Where, in the sunshine's glow, 
A-down the valleys range 

The silv'ry brooklets flow. 

The foot-prints Winter leaves 

Melt slowly in the days 
That bring the dripping eaves 

And warm the changing days. 

A softer breath has birth 

In these diviner skies, 
When from the pulsing earth 

A thousand songs shall rise! 



CALLING. 

Come away, come away, out in the air, 

All is cheerily bright and gay ; 
All is balmily fresh and fair, 
Voices are ringing 
Sweetly, and singing, 
Full of the springing life everywhere; 

Now are they calling thee, heed what they say 



46 HARP OF HESPER. 

Coy maiden, shy maiden, let me toss thy lace, 

Says the balmy breeze. " I'll brush thy hair 
Over about the pretty, pale face, 
All the much sweeter 
And the completer, 
Will I paint over with witching grace, 
Over and over, the pale roses there ! " 

List the call! Come away, come, maiden shy; 

Young man, come away, come, O come! 
Old folks come away, young ones fly! 
Sweet is the thrilling 
Music that's filling 
Little throats, big throats, up in the sky ; 

Spring-time is calling her warblers come home! 



LIFE IN SONG. 

The winds blow drearily, 
The winds blow cheerily 

All the day long — 
Just as you cheerily, 
Or as you drearily 

Burst into song! 

The birds sing merrily, 
The birds sing cheerily, 

All the day long — 
Just as you merrily, 
( )r as you cheerily 

Burst into song! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 47 

The days glide merrily, 
The days glide cheerily 

All the day long- 
Just as you cheerily, 
Or as you merrily 
Burst into song! 



THE CHORAL BAND. 

O list Spring's tripping feet, 
O catch her voices sweet 
In the joyous soul of song, 
Borne the sweet air along; 
For in the veiled skies 
Her form concealed lies; 
Her rhythmic pulses beat 
In transports, and her eyes 
Urge on the coursers fleet 
That bear her through the skies ! 

Chorus— O soon'll the rose be blooming, 

And the bee his trumpet booming, 

All over this fair land ; 
For I list the songs a humming, 
And a thousand voices coming 

To join the Choral Band! 



48 HARP OF HESPER. 

() list the wand'ring wind, 

I own its voices kind, 

For it brushes out the skies, 

Unveils their starry eyes 

And sweeps out Nature's rooms, 

To toss her buds and blooms! 

And in fair lily's cup. 

It woos with fragrant sighs, 

To kiss the dewdrops up 

That sparkle in her eyes! 

Chorus — O soon'll the rose be blooming 

And the bee his trumpet boom in <j 

All over this fair land; 
For I list the thrushes singing, 
And a thousand voices springing 

To join the Choral Band! 



A NEWLY-BORN FOUNTAIN. 

Spring, yes Spring, the beautiful Spring! 
Now will the voices of woodland ring, 
And over the meadows, hill and valley, 
Gathering herds and plough-boys rally. 

Sing, O sing, for this beautiful queen! 

Dear Nature is spreading a carpet of green 

Where this royal lady may scatter her flowers, 

And bead them with gems from morning's sun-showers. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 49 

She comes, she comes! this nymph of the dell, 
She loosens the streams with a magical spell, 
And over the day where morn is beaming, 
The sheen of her hair is like gold in its gleaming. 

She sings, she sings! and re-echo the sounds, 
Nature with voices the wide world abounds; 
The birds' call — the bees and brooklets straying, 
List to their voices — what are they saying? 

Awake, O awake! with morning's bright beam, 
Come out in the sunshine, why do you dream ? 
How sweet are their voices; who can help caring, 
When Spring her bright mantle of beauty is wearing ? 

Then sing, O sing! for the beautiful Spring; 

Were I a birdie I'd take to the wing, 

And fly far over some sunny-kissed mountain, 

To be bathing my wings in her newly-born fountain. 



(i) 



50 HARP OF HELPER. 



APRIL. 

I watched a maiden in her grace 

Toying with lovers' charms; 
Sweet smiles played o'er her changing; face 

'Twixt frowns and breezy balms. 

I saw the idle winds at play 

Among the fleecy folds 
Of shifting clouds, in April's day, 

Yet where the sunshine holds. 

And in the skyey-mirrored lake 

I watched the shadows part, 
And sunny-blue reflected break 

As love from maiden's heart! 



MY LOVE. 

To Bessie. 

My love does me move 
As the spring zephyrs rove 

By shy opening flower, 
Withholding perfume 
Till, budded to bloom, 

It meets the loved wooer. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 51 

The blue of her eyes 
Is like summer skies; 

In such tender glances, 
With dimple and smile, 

That on you the while 
Shoot love's little lances. 

Her voice has the sound 
Of the sweetest bells round, 

In far-away singing; 
When with ear on the stretch 
I listen to catch 

The softest notes ringing. 

And rounded her form, 
Full-swelling and warm, 

Where frills of lace over, 
Cascaded and set 
For her lover a net 

Of snowy white cover. 

O, she is so fair! 

The wealth of her hair 

Is gold in its gleaming; 
By the brows arched height, 
And eyes dancing bright 

In their mischievous beaming-. 



52 HARP OF HESPER. 

She steals from the skies 
The blue of her eyes, 

And blonde of her tresses; 
Her voice from the birds 
In melody's words 

She echoing blesses. 



THE BREAKING OF THE DAY. 

Rise my bonny Belle! from thy eastern casement come 

and see, 
All the world in dewy splendor lies dipped from shore 
to lea; 

O so fair the dawning, 
And so sweet the morning, 
Breaking rosy-crowned from out the slurab'ring azure 
sea! 



Softest zephyrs stir the air that breathe of fairest climes 

to me, 
Or rustle of a robe I've heard in dreams, but O, I could 
not see! 

Still for bright eyes glist'ning, 
Waits thy lover, listening, 
The music of a voice, than ne'er another sounds so sweet 
to me! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 53 



Come my bonny Belle! The morn of life is bidding us 

away, 
Over hill and flow'ry meadow, and through the wood- 
lands gay ! 

Hark, the echoes sounding, 
Sends the pulses bounding, 
And life is full of pleasures, at the breaking of the day! 



MEMORY'S VISTAS. 

Fond memory, with her vistas, bring 
The happy days and morning fair — 

The flowers of love in early spring 
To lay on life's descending stair. 

Down these fair walks the forms of those 

Our loved and loving angels be; 
Long time we saw their fond eyes close 

»wy sea! 



The night wind soughs about my blinds, 
The new moon peeks upon my floor, 

The shadowy mists of memory winds 
To some loved scenes I ponder o'er. 



54 HARP OF HESPER. 

O, new, new moon! Thy ray soft lends 
A haunting from yon starry way; 

Your region lies where hope's star lends 
On weary mortals one bright ray. 

loved ones, to that happier home! 
Where lies the path ye wandered by? 

Over the portals of that dome 

Hung with the myriad-spangled sky! 

1 think somewhere the pathway leads 
Along unknown, diviner ways, 

Where many a landscape fairer spreads 
And grows more beautiful, always. 

But now the night-wind soughs and wails, 
And seems to weep for them and me; 

The stars along their pathway pales, 
So all things pale that now we see. 

But fairest flowers that bless the morn, 
' And closed by zephyrs sweet at even, 
Were never for earth on])' born; 

Their fragrance lifts our hearts to Heaven. 

So mayhap all the best of earth 

Shall so survive; and love's perfume 

They left for us shall know no dearth, 
Where the fair flowers forever bloom. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 55 

WHEN CLOVER BLOOMS. 

When clover blooms there will be stars 
And asphodels, and living bars 
Of blooms across the way — 
Down nature's looms; 
And in her rooms there will be tears 
In blossomed eyes, where Beauty wears 
Her gems; the pale, sweet day, 
Mid shadowing glooms, 
To gay, rich plumes the winged god flies, 
And feasts upon the star-bright eyes 
Of flowers that soon decay — 
When clover blooms. 



SPRING WAITING FOR SUMMER. 

I am waiting for thee, my dear; 

Fly swift o'er the violet hills! 
A breath as of spices is here, 

And bloom of the daffodils. 

The clustr'ing trees shower down 
Their wealth of the scented blooms, 

And with them the bee is blown , 
About mid their sweet perfumes. 

Come, haste o'er the meadows so fair, 
Fly swift o'er the hills to me, 

I am sighing to taste the air 

That breathes where the north-lands be! 



56 HARP OF HESPER. 

I am sighing to hasten away — 
To cover their hills with green, 

And flowery garlands lay 

Where the snow and the frost have been. 

They are waiting for me, I know, 
As others are waiting for thee; 

My sister, come hither, I go 
Far over the vales and the lea. 



THE RAINBOW. 

O earth! thy misty skies are bound, 
As some resplendant band, to keep 

The mystery of a veil so round 

Heaven's dripping eyes, that can but weep! 



THE ZEPHYR'S KISS. 

• 
I send a sweet song away on the wind; 

O waft it kind breezes to her, 

My sister, who dwells where the zephyrs are kind. 

And the roses nod red when the violets stir. 

But wait not for rose nor the violets blue, 

Go carry my message away! 
And touch on her cheek, as softly as dew, 

The impress of what I would say: 



SONGS AND POEMS. 57 

My love is as fair as the lilies that lie 

On the breast of the blue, rippling lake; 

But her cheeks are pale with roses that vie. 
Then zephyrs, go kiss her for my sake! 



FLOWN. 



An empty cage hangs by the wall, 

An empty house within; 
The tale they tell comes home to all 

Where'er these scenes have been. 

She and her bird have passed the bounds 

That held their prison door, 
And flown far off, where no bell sounds, 

Or note calls from the shore, 

Save mem'ry bells, and notes that ring 
And touch the heart with pain ; 

Ne'er more to hear my darling sing, 
Or her sweet bird again. 

O love, how dear a thing thou art! 

How precious keen the test, 
Since Death must leave his venomed dart 

To rankle in the breast. 



58 HARP OF HESPER. 

The day before she went I hung 
Her "pet" high on the wall; 

No note was uttered — those unsung, 
More eloquent than all. 

Her large blue eyes sweet rested there 

Upon its dainty coat 
Of golden plumage, the most rare, 

And pretty, swelling throat. 

No artist ever painted her, 
Nor fondest love can bring; 

But where she's gone I only know 
Time beats a stainless wing-! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 59 



MAY. 

O May, thou darling queen of all the land! 

Thou gentle pacifier between the rigid reign 
Of Winter's warrior-chiefs and Summer's songster 
band, 
That warbles, as fair Beauty leads in her blooming 
train! 



MAY -DAY. 

It is May-day, I know, 

But I scarcely can go 
To pluck up the sweet little flowers. 

Let them live while they may 

Their one, bright, little day, 
Peeping shyly from palely green bowers. 

It is true, in my room 

They might scatter the gloom 
That gathers where no one minds; 

But their stay would be brief, 

And then fade as the leaf, 
To be crumpled and thrown to the winds! 



GO HARP OF HESPER. 

Of the violets blue 
That's so tender and true, 

Ah, is it so much a surprise? 
In its bright, mossy bed, 
So much better than dead, 

Blooming there as the light of her eyes. 

Live on little flower, 
In sunshine and shower; 

I sorrow to rend you apart, 

For you make me think on 
The days that are done — 

And the stem that is broken, O heart! 



THE SIGH. 

O say, have you talked in your sleep, my own — 
Have you spoken the low-breathed words 

That the winds took up, and have wafted along 
With the flight of the morning's sweet birds? 

O birds, dear birds, do you, know you the tale — 

Did you list to the winds borne by 
As you skipped from the shadowy fronds in the vale, 

Did you dream that my love was so nigh? 

Did you sigh in your sleep, my love, my own, — 
Did you dream with the zephyrs borne by, 

So soon as the night and its shadows were flown 
I'd be waiting the song-birds to fly? 



SONGS AND POEMS. 01 

O birds, sweet birds, take my message away; 

Fly swift o'er the breezy hill's dome! 
Tell my darling, dear birdies, the words I would say — 

Go carry my message: Love's home. 

Far away in your dreams, my dear, my own, 
Love tells me, there rose a fond sigh; 

While o'er thee, sweet Night, 'neath a misty veil 
thrown, 
Must have caught it with the zephyrs borne by. 



THE PRINTED PAGE. 

Growing nicer every day; 

Welcome comer! By-the-by, 
I have heard a body say, 

We grow nicer if we try. 

And the infant mind so clear 

Holds the stamp thought gives its clay; 
Black or white, the same appear 

Hard to be erased away. 

Were it true, how careful, friend, 
We should be with infant brain, 

Withholding wrong; than to amend 
A cruel blot, whose scars remain. 



62 HARP OF HESPER. 

We should lay with tender care 

Flowers of thought's unfading wreath; 

Then, should rougher lines appear, 
These shall gleam as pearls beneath 

Flowers of love to clamber by 
The pathway on life's busy stage. 

Then, beginning, let us try 

To print with care youth's fair, bright page. 



I'LL THINK OF THEE. 

I'll think of thee when storms of sorrow lower 
And throw their shadows o'er thy stainless soul ;' 

When dark misfortune holds thee in its subtle power, 
Beyond the seeming reach of earthly friends' con- 
trol. 

And should thy sorrows drag thee down to darksome 
death, 
Seeming to shut thy heaven from out love's rim- 
ming bowl; 
Then will I pray for thee, with tears and falt'ring 
breath, 
Nor even forced by Fate to yield thy riven soul. 

Then will I think of thee, with that serene desire 
That ever prompts the soul to noblest deeds of love; 

When touched by heaven, with its celestial fire, 

My heart can only yearn to meet thy sinless soul 
above. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 63 

THE WARRIOR'S DREAM. 

The warrior's dream of glory, is it a fleeting name, 
When the bugle-call sounds him to battle and to fame? 
I'm thinking of the morning when his proud pulses 

bound, 
He dreams not to "drop out" in the silence so profound. 
And I think with saddened heart of the night's rest 

that's so deep, 
No battle's noise can waken; nor bugle call from 

sleep,— 
But the flowers on his bed, and the soldier's dream so 

stilled, 
May lie as fairest scroll, love, for glory has fulfilled! 



ON A BIRTHDAY. 

27th of May. 

Ah me, how strangely fast the years glide by! 

They sail like frosted ships on seas of pearl, 
Where all the shining waves piled mountains high 

Fall away again, and vanish in the sea's deep whirl! 

So fall our precious pearls. The days go one by one, 
The ships sail noiselessly o'er the heaving waves, 

The little voyage soon ended, so fearlessly begun, 
Leaves only the mementos of storms the soul braves! 



G4 HARP OF HESPER. 

But we will mourn not without hope, on our fast- 
speeding lives; 
And the specter ship of Time bearing our loved 
away, — 
We will be joyful in the present; happy he who 
strives 
To bring a gleam of sunshine for each and every 
day. 



FAREWELL TO SPRING. 

Pale are thy dripping eyes, sweet Spring! and bright 
by turns; 

In shy tale tell, 

I love thee well. 
Thou, as in tears, dost fall full-brimming Nature's urns 

To summ'ry dell; 

So fare thee well! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 65 



JUNE. 

June, thou art a goddess, on whom all shower 
Perfection in thy praises. Crowned thou art in power 
O'er all thy sister months. Thou bindst the magic 
feet S 

Of tripping Spring; and Summer's breath to meet, 
And clasp thee as the darling of Earth's heart. 
Folded in gloss of web— in leaf, in flower thou art! 
In tinkling bells the silver brooks rehearse thy love; 
The birds fly dipping little bills, a-brimming from 

above; 
The lakes gleam bluer, and the bending skies 
Reflected are, far rounding depth that lies 
A clearer soul ; thy face of heaven doth give, 

And man but longs that thou eternally mightst live, 

Only vain one! whom naught on earth below, in 

worlds above, 
Can make a heaven for man, but change, and God's 

unending love. 



JUNE'S FRONDED FORMS. 

Down by the leafy paths of wild-wood glen 

I sought fair June's delightful bowers, 
In other days. She came with lightsome tracery then, 

Pale-tinted, pearly, with the shadowy fronds and 

flowers. 
(5) 



66 HARP OF HESPER. 

Within the cool retreat of bending boughs, 

That interlaced each other highly o'er, 
She hung with tender vines the kingly rows 

Of trees that stood in majesty upon her velvet floor. 

Her winds were wafted sweet from royal rose 

And lilies fair to these Druidic aisles; 
And charmed the nymphs celestial to disclose 

The solitary beauty there, the poets' heart beguiles. 

But now fair June has forms of fretted tracery, 
In bowers of shaded green the far lands o'er; 

And fronded tops are waving, where royal roses be, 
To billowy fields of wheat that swell as to a shore, 

And ripple down the dear, delightful ways 

Of charming lanes, to groves of vernal spring, 

Where every branch breathes melody of perfect days, 
Dipped in the pearl of dyes, the silvery rain and 
sunshine bring. 

O man! from busy scenes and city's street 
Come to the fields — to the fair wild flowers, 

Bending their plumy heads and fronded faces sweet, 
And in the wild-wood aisles they sigh through native 
bowers! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 67 

Come to the shady groves, where sweetest notes respond 
To music's heart. His spirit's stamp divine 

Is in the leaf, the flower, and plumy waving frond; 
Step lightly past their dewy eyes, O gentle friend of 



THE MURM'RING SONG. 

The dew is sparkling on the flowers, 

The sky is all aglow 
And over earth and woodland bowers 
I catch the murm'ring song that pours 

Its voices soft and low. 



SUMMER. 

Summer has come! Where the rose cloud lies 
In her beauty veiled, sits the queen of the skies, 
And a thousand gems in the morning hours 
Lie trembling soft on the pale, sweet flowers. 
The sun comes up! And he kisses the fields 
Where the clover springs, and his chariot wheels 
Roll musically on in the still, bright hours, 
And the breath of his steeds charm the sleeping 

flowers. 
The valleys awoke! The lily-buds swell, 
And ferns droop by in the shadowy dell, 
While a blended song from the vales arise, 
As the birds go winging through the skies. 



68 //.I/;/' OF B ESP &R. 

With ;i peaceful rest in the skyey sea 

Lies mirrored the lake's tranquillity j 

And shy, in the shadows of the green, 

The wood-bird woos his speckled queen. 
The squirrel nimbly hops on the trees, 
And a life of pleasure t lie insect sees. 
The grasses grow, and they talk to some 
Who up to a higher sense have come; 
They sough and sigh, they weep and moan, 
And melody breathe in undertone. v 
The air grows rich as the breath o' the bee, 
Where the rose nods red by the shimmering sea 

Of unnumbered lines, from the pale, sweet flower; 
To the Star-eyed lily that blooms but an hour 
In the burning sun () for cool, spicy ^ales, 
And a dell of shadow in darkling dales! 
Then conn- thou with me to bovvers of green, 
Where tin- sun glances shy in a frolic between 
The satiny leaves, and the shadows skip about 

As little nymphy imps, sunshine's chasing out, — 

Bui for all we love them so, when Sol his burning 

ray 8 
Is chasing us to hide from sultriness of days 
That linger as a mask Nature bids us wear. 
Till we are forced to own we love, too, winter dear; 
But that sweet Summer calls and woos us ever on, 
So steadily with beauty; evanishing and gone, 
.She lures us yet to come; and on mossy bank in dell 

We pause, we linger here, and sigh we love her 

well! 



SONOS AND POEMS. 69 

THE FERN BED. 

T come from the wood, I come from the burn, 

I come from the bramble-bray; 
I've gathered the wild flower, mosses and fern, 
To brighten a spot where my eyes may turn 

When silently fades the day. 

O the shady spots I have wandered by, 

And the cool, inviting nooks, 
With dear birds caroling through the sky, 
Is a poem grander than you or I 

E'er have seen in the written books. 

I've scattered some seed, sung many a song — 

They're poor little verses I know — 
But when south winds sweet kiss the roses among, 
And the lily-bells hang with dew-dripping tongue, 

My seeds maybe beginning to grow. 



VIOLETS. 

Wild-wood violets, 

Love thy look begets. 

Lowly living, 

Sweetly giving 

Fragrance, that one ne'er forgets! 

When the bright sun sets 

Stars are shining 

From a lining 



70 HARP OF HESPER. 

Dipped in blue as little pets, 

Sweet, blue violets; 

Coyly peeping 

From earth sleeping, 

Some such eyes one ne'er forgets, - 

Blue as were the dyes 

Of their native skies, 

They have passed you 

And have classed you 

With the tints of Paradise! 



THE THUNDER STORM. 

The thunder rolled amid the sky, 
The wind the tall trees swayed, 
And darksome clouds went hurrying by 
As forked lightnings they let fly, 
And o'er the landscape played. 

Down came a crash! The rolling ceased; 

Now all the earth was still ; 
The rain from out the clouds released, 
Poured down in torrents. Nature, eased, 

Let floods the valleys fill. 

Hushed all, and calm, the clouds went by, 

The birds came out to sing; 
The sun peeped forth from out the sky, 
And glistening raindrops far and nigh 

Shone clear as crystal spring. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 71 

LOVE'S IDYL. 

Love dreamed she rested in lover's arms 

On a bed of lilies, breathing sighs 
O'er odored with such breath as charms 

The bosom sweet of bending skies. 

She dreamed they rented there content, 
With the placid water's heaving rise, 

Until their souls together blent 
And floated up with lilies' sighs. 

There caught between the bars of heaven 
And earth apart, they blissful dwelt; 

While mortals thought, bending at even 
Low at their wedded vestal knelt. 



EARTH SO BEAUTIFUL. 

Bursting to life from the sunny land-bowers, 
The birds, the bees, and fairy bright flowers, 
Springing as magic to greet the glad eye — 
Earth is so beautiful when summer is nigh! 

Come let us haste o'er the valleys so fair, 

And catch the glad anthem of praises and prayer 

From bird-notes, and blossoms that spring from the 

ground — 
Earth is so beautiful, and sweet is each sound. 



72 HARP OF HESPER. 

Still float the clouds in the far ether blue, 
Ancfn letting flashes of sunlight burst through, 
Down from the heights we would scale by and by, 
Earth is so beautiful, when heaven seems nigh. . 

Sweet is the hush that steals over my frame, 
As I ponder upon it, from whence they all came? 
The blossoming flowers, the birds, and the bee — 
Earth is so beautiful, so bright unto me. 

O could I but sing this one little song, 
And carol it forth to Him, all the day long, 
I'd sing to my Maker this song to His praise — 
Earth is so beautiful, these beautiful days! 



LADEN WITH SONG. 

The air is full-laden with song, 

And vocal the choristers hie 
In the green of the wild-wood along, 

Or scatter their notes in the sky. 

So fearless and harmless they rove, 

Unfettered by prison or cell; 
They pour out their sweet notes of love 

And, warbling, go home to the dell. 

They hie where the violets bloom, 
And sing with the breeze's low call, 

Where the flowers' sweet wealth of perfume 
Comes floating and breathing with all. 



SONUS AND POEMS. 78 

(), the air is full-laden with song! 

And finely the choristers move, 
To strike on the heart-strings along 

A thousand sweet notes that we love. 

A thousand sweet strains in the air, 
That rhythmical beat with the bloom, 

The unfolding of Life's holy prayer, 

With those songs that have left their per- 
fume. 



GOOD NIGHT. 

Good night! and may thy dreams be sweet! 

Some lovely picture see; 
Or dream, my love, our kisses meet, 

Thus would I dream of thee! 

Good night! thou art too pure, too fair — 

1 put the thought away — 
But dream we rise together, where 

Diviner love holds sway. 



PEARLS FROM THE SUN. 

I have rare pearls, I have pearls from the sun! 

1 caught them a-drowning in the ocean, each one! 
For he w r ept them as hiding. O hiding, I laid 

My head where the amber tree cast its sweet shade! 



74 HARP OF HESPER. 



JULY AND AUGUST. 

Pale seas of rolling billows, and wind-tossed swells 

Of luscious grain in the milk, the hot sun steals 
Magnetic through; till in their calixes' sweet heart 
there dwells 
The million, million kernels quick pulse of Time 
reveals. 

So then the world thou keepest, with thy burning skies, 
July! Thy twin sister, August, rolls the shining 
sheaves, 
And tosses them in heaps, where, golden-crowned 
there lies 
The harvester's reward! Nor soon her burnished 
footstep leaves. 



AUTUMN. 

The rose is deepening in the sky, 

The purple mists stretch o'er the hills; 

The heather bush is blushing bv, 

Far on 'gainst yellow willow's quills. 

The landscape takes a richer shade; 

Vermilion, crome, sienna dyes; 
Fair autumn days have gorgeous laid, 

And framed in webs of purpling skies. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 75 



SEPTEMBER. 

Cool, friendly shades and knolls of tufted ground; 

Sun ling'ring, haunts in chosen sheltered dell- 
Above, the silv'ry brook; and mingling mellowed 
sound 

Winds ever with it on, as bidding us farewell. 



AFTER THE HARVEST. 

Pour, pour; rain, rain; 

The harvest is o'er and the grain 

Is ready for the floor, 

The threshing-floor, bin and store, 
Or off on the train. 

Blow, blow; wind and rain; 

Let the farmer rest; 

He has done his best, 

Like a bird to its nest, 
Till the sun shines out again. 

Then away he'll hie 

As nappy's a king, 

And plow and sing 

Till the fields will ring 
With his melody. 



76 HARP OF HESPER. 

O a farmer's life 
Is a jolly round 
As e'er was found; 
Tilling the ground — 

And his little wife 

Is happy and gay 

From morn till night; 
She is fresh and bright, 
And tries to do right 

From day to day. 



'.-i 



Together they live 

In peace and content; 

With good will blent, 

Their lives are spent 
In good. And they give 

Their goods to the poor; 

With their neighbor they share- 
They've enough and to spare — 
God hears their prayer, 

And doubles the store! 

O maiden, young, 

With the bloom on your cheek, 

Loving eyes and meek, 

A soul that can speak 
As well as a tongue! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 77 

Be sure that you wed 

With the farmer boy; 

'Twill give you joy — 

As an even tide 

The moments glide, 
And a life well led, 

Will bring you peace 

When age comes on, 

And one by one 

The sands all pass 

Adown the glass — 
Till earth-life cease, 

And you wing your flight 

O'er the starry floor 

Through the shining door 
To worlds of Lisrht! 



AUTUMNAL DAYS. 

Brown bare the hills, O silvery summers green, 
And fields with softened tints that lie between, 
Mellowed in beams that flush the dying day 
On either side, where tufted ranges lay. 

Far o'er the hills I lift my wistful eyes, 
And view the scene where fading beauty lies; 
Fond Nature yields at last, in hectic blush, 
In crimson glow, outcropping tree and bush. 



78 HARP OF H ESP Eli. 

I sigh to think these days, so passing fair, 

Must yield to winter's keen and chilling air; 

That where the sky falls down with dew-dripped 

breath 
Shall tremble little flowers, some weight beneath; — 

Shall cover all the valleys and bright brown hills, 
The stretching landscape o'er with soft, white frills, 
Till babbling brooks shall feel the crystal case 
And huddle down beneath the cold embrace! 

I love to think these days of all the year 
The fairest, saddest are, and yet most dear! 
As some departing saint, whose race e'er told, 
Smiles backward, touching on steps of gold. 

Such mellow, lovely days, smiling half way 
Between the brow of summer and winter's trail away ; 
Kindle with jest and song the interlude between; 
Crowning harvest sheaves, and fireside's glowing 
scene ! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 79 



OCTOBER. 

Burnished all things! And rimey clouds a-keep 
Float o'er the heavens, on seas of rose and gold ; 

The little birds pipe mournfully; gauzy insects sleep 
Till wound cocoons in Winter's arms their glossy 
treasures hold. 



IN OCTOBER. 

Hail to thee! Come every soul, 
All the earth is now complete, 
All the hills and vales replete, 

With the harvest's brimming bowl. 

Shout aloud, ye peaceful lands! 

Wood and hamlet sing for joy! 

Autumn's golden days employ 
To save full-store with willing hands. 

Flood the hills and valleys down 
With a mellowed, softened light; 
But with something more than bright 

Dons the earth her royal crown. 



80 HARP OF HESPER. 

O the pearl-bright, dreamy days! 

O the fading of the year! 

Summer ling'ring by her bier 
Sparkles with a burst of rays. 

Droops with work divinely wrought; 
Pales with hectic, glorious, fair, 
To the altar of her stair 

All her treasures home are brought. 

Garnished with vermilion dyes, 
Mounts she upward royally, 
All her work done loyally — 

Summer in October dies! 



BLACKBIRDS. 

Sing, birds, o' the bright summer morn; 
Sing atop o' the tasseled corn, 

And astride o' the golden grain; 
Sing, scattering through the sky, 
As you whirl your thousands by, 

And quivering, dot the plain. 

Sing away, o'er the whistle and plough; 
Sing atop o' the bending bough, 

And astride o' the wild rice's plume. 
O breathe in the blue-bells' eye, 
And cling to the golden rod by, 

As you color your coat a-bloom. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 81 

Sing, birds, o' the bright summer clays; 
Sing blithe when the autumn robe lays 

In its gold and its crimson dyes; 
Dot it over with your glossy coats; 
Peck about, eat and sing your chatty notes, 

And rattle 'em up as sparks, Oh, skies! 



INDLAN SUMMER. 

On distant hills I watch the haze, 
With rose and purple blending; 

The gorgeous tints of autumn days 
Their fading beauties lending. 

O'er all the land a quiet broods, 

A soft and golden splendor 
Falls on the earth, and in the woods 

There is a tint most tender. 

The partridge drums with mit'ring win< 
And for his mate dissembles; 

While straying insect buzzing sings 
And summer all resembles. 



I catch a feeling of repose, 

Of perfumes sweetly stealing; 

To treasure cells of op'ning rose, 
Some mystic sense revealing. 



82 HARP OF HESPER. 

My heart now opens as a rose, 
Its nourishment all-needing, 

And stilly chambers swing a-close 
Upon the heavenly feeding. 

Heaven's breath can stir the heart aglow, 
Love's perfumes vanish never; 

And doubt's chill winds can never blow 
Where falls God's sunlight ever. 



THE ROBIN'S FAREWELL. 

Cheery up, cheery up, till I come again ; 
Keep my nest, O sweet, down in the shady glen. 
I will sing for you in my southern tree; 
Cheery up, cheery up, I'll come back to thee. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 83 



NOVEMBER. 

Where wert thou, Oh, maiden! with thy dark tangled 

hair, 
And what monster, grim-laden, has stripped thee so 

bare? 
O bend thou, fond skies, and spread o'er her thy veil; 
Wind in gauzes to her feet that are gemmed low in the 

vale. 



INDIAN SUMMER PRINCESS. 

I sing in the tand of legends, where 
An Indian princess comes to woo, 

With summ'ry skies and balmy air, 
The rugged earth to life anew. 

She sends a courier. on the air, 
With silv'ry sandals for her feet; 

While o'er the hills her dusky hair 
She mazes in the sunshine sweet. 

The sumac tree, the maple, oak, 

Are dipped for her in brilliant dyes; 

The cunning crow is heard to croak, 
The wild geese wander in the skies. 



84 HARP OF HESPER. 

She lingers on the sunshine's track, 

And where the woodland berries grow ; 

She calls the song-birds to come back, 
The squirrels bright to sport below. 

Wrapped in a cloud of shim'ring haze, 

Caught 'twixt the worlds of dark and light, 

She meshes in her webs the days, 
And slumbers by the jeweled night. 

At morn gives idler hints of skies, 

When snow-birds hover by the eaves, 

As o'er the bending boughs there lies 
A feathery robe, the princess leaves; 

And mounts in haste her coursers Meet, 
While snow -king blows with chilling air 

A wraith about her flying feet, — 

And sifts with pearls her dusky hair. 



SUMMER HAS FLED. 

Cold o'er the pebbles the bright waters flow, 
And fiercely the north wind's beginning to blow, 
Hurling before it the leaves sere and dead, 
For summer, the beautiful summer, has fled. 

Comes there from south-land a low breathing sigh, 
Back on the trail of her jewels dropt by ; 
Aye, that she lingered with smiles sweet and fair, 
Keeping old winter away from his lair. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 85 

Not long will she tarry, far onward she hies, 
To grace with her sisters, their own native skies. 
When winter reigns king o'er the north-lands so wild, 
Sweel Summer lives ever, a tropical child! 



THE GOLDEN E(i(,. 

The blue-jay screams by the house-wife's cot, 
The wood-bird pecks the grubs from the trees, 

While the good man slays a goose for the pot, 
Unmindful of the c^^; a poet, golden, sees. 



86 HARP OF HESPER. 



DECEMBER. 

O, in thy barren brownness, thou art a gleaner dear ; 
But thou bindest up the treasures that have gathered 

with the year; 
And where contentment smiles, in many a sunny day, 
Thou rainest pearly drops, and buds do blight in May. 



THE LITTLE BIRD BY MY DOOR. 

Now the robin red-breast is singing here no more, 
But blithesome little wood-bird pecks by the door; 
He comes all in black and white, with a top-knot gay, 
And with his long, slim bill quite hunts the grubs away. 

He's a bright little bird, loves well our northern clime; 
If not, could fly away down south most any time. 
Perhaps he stays to cheer us with his sprightly ways, 
And bring us thoughts of Summer and her sunshiny 
days. 

No matter why he lingers; when the feathery snow 

falls 
And covers up so nicely his speckled overalls, 
He works away the brisker, seldom stops to sing, 
Never dreaming he is lonesome, nor any such a thing. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 87 

I suppose he has a mate, snugly tucked away, 
And some bright-eyed little chicks, a soft downy gray, 
Somewhere under cover, in a place safe from harm, 
With mother- bird snug over, cooing them to charm. 

I think I'd like to catch him, and give him crumbs of 

bread, 
And smoothe the little top-knot, so nice, upon his head ; 
To ask him where he sleeps when the fiercest wind 

blows; 
If his bed is in the grasses, his blanket softest snows? 

Or maybe he is sheltered, beneath a little bough 
So snug the chilly blasts can hardly whistle through. 
O, I'd ask him many questions, but most I care to know, 
Our Father's watching o'er him through wintry winds 
and snow. 



*KASOTA'S BRIDAL DRESS. 

Come over to Kasota; 'tis fairy land here; 
The trees are all frosted, St. Peter, my dear; 
They're bending and bonghing in bridal array; 
So, dearest St. Peter, please heed what I say. 

Kasota is lovely, we all know 'tis true; 
And 'tis whispered in secret she's quite fond of you. 
We know that your f arms are stretching lovingly o'er, 
Grasping Kasota on Minnesota's fair shore. 



«N HARP OF HESPER. 

To so display affection, my dearest, kind sir, 
Is rather quite trying to a proud maid like her, — 
Without at once proffering your heart and your hand; 
So dally with her no more, but heed my command! 

Hers are jewels the fairest, and purest white dress; 
No bride was e'er arrayed in such rare loveliness; 
So modest and drooping she hides her fair head, 
When I hint it, St. Peter, that she should be wed. 

In this bridal dress she's lovely as a star, 

Or the angel that came when that "door stood ajar." 

Then come to this fairy land, hasten the day, 

For are we not longing to give Kasota away? 

♦Towns opposite on Minnesota River. 
tBridges. 



FAIR KASOTA. 

1887. 

Kasota was a blooming maid, 

A long time ago, 
But of her lover was afraid, 

And did not wed, you know. 

St. Peter held his head so high 
She dared not seek his face, 

And so she languished idly by 
And took an old maid's place. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 89 

At last a fairy came her way, 

And laid a magic wand ; 
She bade the rocks speak, and the clay 

She turned to gold, with sand. 

A maiden's blush she bade to rise 

On fair Kasota's brow, 
And gave her beauty back for sighs; 

She's in the market now! 



DECEMBER TO EARTH. 

" She is dead," I said; and I laid her form down 
All so still and so cold in her fair, jeweled case; 

And I shrouded her in from the fierce Monarch's 
frown, 
And sprinkled with snow-down her bare, dusky face. 



FAIRY ELF SNOW. 

I will sing of the snow, of the fairy elf snow, 

Who has scattered her gems by the daisy beds rare, 
Where the north winds may sweep, and the blizzards 
may blow. 

She has broidered a garment with tend'rest care, 
Unheeding a frolic the wild winds may keep; 

With fold upon fold of fairy-like lace, 
She has spread o'er the beds, as of children asleep, 

And with daintiest frills has framed in each face. 



90 HARP OF HESPER. 

FROST FLOWERS. 

O lovely little purple, blooming spray! 

Who gave you us but God, to deck the lonely way? 

When all thy sisters bright, closed eyes, and gone 

asleep, 
And their sweet breath the angels, I think, most hold 

a-keep. 
But thou, though lacking glow, the warmer days do 

bring; 
Art decked with fairest grace, thy pale, pure covering, 
With gauzy spider's web of lace, dew-jemm^d, sweet, 
Whereon I dare but lay the thought of Sorrow's 

stainless feet! 



DAUGHTERS OF THE YEAR. 
An Idyl. 

Twelve sisters all dwelt 'neath the starry blue dome, 
And they all of them wandered about for a home. 
One stormed, and one wept, one moaned, and one 

loved, 
One sowed, and one reapt, one sang, and one roved, 
And three of them smiled through the wind and the 

rain, 
And scattered bright flowers about o'er the plain, 



SONGS AND POEMS. 91 

While the twelfth one so cold, in her pale, regal gloom, 

Swept the aisles of old Time past her sisters in bloom! 

November's chill winds blew the sleet in the air, 

And snow-flakes fell fast on with January there. 

Soon February came, with a smile in her eye, 

To be rudely repulsed by cold March whirling by. 

But April in pity, with smiles and with tears, 

Bursts forth into singing as May, bright, appears; 

Till June, the fair goddess of the land, comes along 

With a lap full of flowers, with sunshine and song. 

Soon July and August go trippingly by 

O'er the velvety vale, 'neath a blue-tinted sky, 

And scatter their treasures with smiles sweet and fair, 

Till the gold of September is twined in their hair; 

And garnered the treasures of summer and sun, 

October comes laden with gifts for each one. 

So steadily numb'ring the weeks and the days, 

They keep the scene shifting, no mortal hand stays! 

But they scatter their treasures and gems of sweet song, 

Pearls of thought on the pathway, as you come along, 

While some of them vanish in the corridors of Time, 

They all whirl around again, keeping good time. 

As the year calls them in they trip to the bars 

Of music's far beat, that keeps time with the stars; 

And a-visiting never but one at a time, 

Comes to whisper her love, low, as silv'ry bells chime. 



92 HARP OF HESPER. 

THE YEAR'S FAREWELL. 

I go, sweet friends of many days; 

But I will leave a precious child for all 
My sunny skies have kissed, my wayward ways 
Forgive. Hark ! for 'tis born with the new year's 

call, 
And shifts the scene with midnight's muffled bell, 
Striking the hour — and, O my long farewell! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 93 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



SONNET. 



As from some withered tree the rose bursts out to 

bloom, 
So shall thy spirit rise from shadow-land of gloom ; 
As misty Night shall weep, and give to glowing Day 
Pale, starry flowers 'mid dewy-blossomed way, 
O'er-nectared all with perfumes, that from their sweets 

exhale, 
And gems of pearly lakelets, studding the flow'ry vale - y 
With grand trees arching round, inclosing vales and 

dells 
In one far-reaching landscape, to where the soft sea 

swells ; 
So, darling, in thy life beyond the azure shore, 
Heaven compasseth thy soul's unfolding evermore ! 



THE OLD HOUSE AND INHABITANT. 

The old house was worn, exceedingly so, 

And crumbling with age and decay ; 
No more as of yore could its life-embers glow, 
And though the inhabitant still loved it so, 
Yet sometime must he move away ; 



94 HARP OF HESPER. 

But thought he would linger and patch up again ; 

It might shield him for long years to come, 
From withering blight and the cold eyes of men ; 
Nor passionate grief or bewildering pain 

Should force him to leave the old home. 

Though a rude spot of clay, and so meager of size — 
He'd dwelt there now long but unknown, 

And the windows were blurred that looked out to the 
skies — 

What matter, when over the soul's seeing eyes 
The wing of the day had ne'er flown ? 

Some judged by his looks, that within were rude jars, 

And the inhabitant ugly as sin ; 
But the soul that dwelt there was as bright as the stars 
You'd have seen sometimes, through the deep window 
bars, 

When smiles broke over the worn features thin ! 

But a stranger came by, and he pitied him so; 

A beautiful story he told 
Of a country where never the chilly winds blow, 
And the inhabitants never of sickness could know — 

Of summer's fierce heat, nor the cold; 

Of a land where the rivers of pleasure do flow, 

And love's skies gilding the City of Rest. 
So the inhabitant listened, and longed much to go, 
But the old home here, he had loved it, O so! 
It was hard for him to leave, but 'twas best. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 95 

Then he took a survey of all he had done; 

Of the deeds in this much-abused home, 
Of the guests he had kept and the smiles he had won, 
All the sunny bright spots, now over and gone, 

Eclipsing the darkness of some. 

" Down, down, tumble down, old house," quoth he, 
" Thy walls are all filled with keen strife; 

I see the fair city, my home that's to be; 

And yonder's an angel a-beckoning to me." 
He, smiled, and the angel was — Life! 



RING LOW, SWEET BELLS. 

Ring low, sweet bells, 
Down o'er the dells, 

Far, far away, 
Where Sorrow's wells 

Shall flow to-day, 
For Jenny Lind 

Has passed away. 

Ring no sad knells 
O ringing bells; 

But singing, say, 
O'er hills and dells 

And dying day, 

The voice we loved 

Is hushed, away, 



96 HA III' OF HESPER. 

Beyond the rise 
Of native skies. 

And, bells! say 
That no song dies 

In sweeter lay 

When Jenny Lind's 

I lave passed away. 



I N M E M O R Y . 
Mrs. S. O. V. 

She sleeps! Thy loved one sleeps 
Where, on the hills 1 bright bloom. 

The rose and lily keeps 

Their fragrance for her tomb! 

The star-eyed daisies by, 

And sweetly odorous flowers, 

Shall breathe in pitying- sigh, 
With softly falling showers. 

And little birds shall trill 
Their notes about the spot, 

Where all her love shall fill 
With sweet -forget-me-not ! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 97 

Sleep on, O loved one, sleep! 

The dews shall kiss thy bed, 
The mourning-dove shall sleep 

With folded wing e'er head. 

While prostrate mourner, nigh, 

Weeps lowly o'er the mound, 
As Night, with deepening sigh, 

Broods o'er her rest profound. 



IN MEMORY OF MYRA, 

Steals on the evening air, 
A quiet holy, hushed, 

For up the shining stair 

An angel's wing has brushed. 

O it is hard when morn 
Gives promise of a day 

So bright, that dewy dawn 
Dissolves in tears away ; 

But sweet to know that love 

Is of a heavenly birth, 

And all our best above 

Gives only this to earth. 
(7) 



98 HARP OF HESPER. 

Not in the deep, dark grave 
Our jewels shall be seen; 

Beyond the flood, the wave, 
They keep their ray serene. 



WHERE JESSIE SLEEPS. 

A silent rest! No noise nor care 
Comes to disturb the sleeper there. 
Some little flowers their tendrils send 
To twine around about their friend. 

The mournful wind her requiem sings, 
And the lone bird with drooping wings, 
While the low ivy lovingly creeps 
To reach the spot where Jessie sleeps. 



MAMIE DEAN. 

There's a voice that is silent, and lashes softly falling 

Over blue eyes stilled in slumber, down below; 
Nor can she heed the loved ones, in tears and sorrow 
calling, 
For Mamie's sweetly sleeping where the tears can 
never flow. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 99 

THE REAPER'S GIFT. 

A Reaper for a gift one day 

Flew o'er the dotted plain ; 
He took the fairest flower away, 

And left the bearded grain. 

Quickly to heaven's gate he rose, 

And passed the bright bud in; 
But when he saw its portals close 

He wept his form of sin. 

Then back to earth the Reaper fled, 

And tore his mask away; 
As still in slumber's dreamless bed, 

Neath flowers, sweet Dio lay! 



JEANNIE'S SLEEP. 

On the distant prairie 

Where the wild flowers bloom, 
There sweet Jeannie sleepeth 

In the voiceless tomb. 

Rut in mem'ry's vista, 

Where the school-bell calls, 

Little feet may meet her 

Flitting through hushed halls. 



100 HARP OF HESPER. 

IN MEMORIAM. 
Mrs. Barker. 

Far in the wild-wood than wert lain, 
And flowers might wept for grief and pain 
Over thy bed. Love weeps to-day, 
To think how thou wert torn away ! 



LITTLE VOYAGER. 
To Mrs. M. D. 

Where hast thou fled to, little lone one? 
Over the shadow and under the sun, ■ 
Into the kingdom of heavenly love; 
Flown as a birdie or white-winged dove; 

Gone to discover the country afar, 
Over the bounds of the pale-tinted star. 
Rest there and roam there, voyaging one, 
Far on Life's seas to the mysty land gone. 



LILY E. B. 

What ling'ring sun shall rise on such sweet maid again? 
What mortal match again those large, loved violet 

eyes? 
Winds kiss, in wand'ring, bells — the bluebells of the 

elen — 



SONGS AND POEMS. 101 

And waft the violet's breath, for love in breathing 

sighs; 
She was so dear on earth — in heaven love catches 

gleams, — 
She wears the vesture's counterpart, far brighter than 

these dreams ! 



ALICE. 



Softly the roving zephyrs stray, 

Slowly their airs are floating by, 
Sweetly their voices seem to say: 

Lullaby, sweet, sweet lullaby. 

Singing so lowly do they know 

What I would have them wafting sigh 

Over a spot where the daisies grow 
Lullaby, sweet, sweet lullaby. 

Bend to the flowers blooming there, 

Dewy with tears and low-breathed sigh, 

Over and over, she was so fair! 
Lullaby, sweet, sweet lullaby. 

Sleep on my darling; never a tear 

■ Stains more the cheek nor the heaving sigh; 
Never a moan, now, never a fear, 
Lullaby, sweet, sweet lullaby. 



102 HARP OF HESPER. 

TEARS OF JOY. 

" When Love shall die," the Roses cried, 
u Then shall our perfumes fade away; 

And borne on airs of heaven, abide 
Where Love and Life forever stay — 
Nor ever fade, nor fade away — 

But borne on airs of heaven, abide 
Where Love and Life forever stay." 

" When grief shall cease," the Dasies sighed,, 
" Then shall we die in tears away " ; 

" In tears of joy," the Roses cried, 
" And Love and Life forever stay, 
When grief shall die in tears away" — 

" In tears of joy," the roses cried — 
" And Love and Life forever stay." 

" Then Love and Joy," the Roses cried, 
" Shall never die, shall ne'er decay, 

But ever with us shall abide; 

When all things else shall fade away — 
Shall never die, shall ne'er decay — 

But ever with us shall abide, 

When all things else shall fade away." 



THAT GALLANT BARK. 

The winds have kissed thy gallant bark,. 

A-sailing far away at sea; 
But they might rend in twain, O hark! 

This heart that beats for only thee. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 103 

The winds, the winds, the bleak cold winds, 
Might rend in twain this loving heart, this heart, O hark! 
That beats, that beats for only thee. 

But I will pray that sunny skies 

Shall smile upon the wanderer home, 
With yon fair moon, and starlight's eyes, 
And soft winds kiss the billowy foam. 

The winds, the winds, the soft, sweet winds, 
To bring that gallant bark, that bark, O hark! 
And safe to me the wanderer home. 



ENDYMION. 

In dreamland's dream, he's dreaming on, 

He's dreaming on — 
On the marble steps he sleeps upon. 

He will awake when morn shall break, 
And place its gems his brow upon, 
His brow upon, 
He will awake when morn shall break 
And place its gems his brow upon. 



The hills are fair in the setting sun, 

In the^ setting sun; 
On the marble steps he sleeps upon; 
Selena, bright, queen of the night, 



104 HARP OF HESPER. 

Bids him awake, with her be gone, 
With her be gone; 
Selena, bright, queen of the night, 
Bids him awake, with her be gone. 

Fair is his form, Endymion, Endymion, 
On the marble steps he sleeps upon; 

And the maiden moon in a deeper swoon 
But lays her spell his eyelids on, 
His eyelids on ; 

And the maiden moon in a deeper swoon 
But lays her spell his eyelids on. 

In some fair clime he's roaming far, 

He's roaming far; 
In dreamland's clime no clouds can mar; 

He will awake when morn shall break, 
And shine a bright, a jeweled star, 
A jeweled star ; 
He will awake when morn shall break, 
And shine a bright, a jeweled star. 



THE GOLD OF LOVE. 

I plucked a flower, the fairest to see, 
And placed it fondly upon my breast; 

Its perfume sweet my soul did meet; 
But it faded away like all the rest, 

And only a mem'ry was left for me. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 105 

I touched a chord in the depths there be 
Of a heart that ever was true and kind; 

Its pulses sweet with rapture beat, 
But perished away as the soughing wind, 

And only a dirge was there left for me. 

I sought for wealth, the truest there be, 
Came gold and gems, and all of the rest! 

I was not content, for love was not sent; 
The treasures I had were as dross at the best, 

And I pined in my palace a beggar to see! 

I sought for my love, and my love sought me, 
And my palace vanished away with the rest, 

But the gold of love came instead from above, 
And I owned at last my heart it was blessed. 

Then all I had lost came again to me! 



SWEET ROSES BY THE WALL. 

Roses budded in their beauty, 

And unfolded with the dew, 
Ever keep a charm that's lovely, 

Brightening always, ever new, 
Bringing back to mind a spring-time 

Where the roses, one and all 
That my mem'ry treasures sweetest, — 

The sweet roses bv the wall! 



106 HARP OF HESPER. 

There so coy and shy a maiden, 

Passed the blooming clusters by; 
None could ever guessed her secret 

Winds that kissed her, only I. 
Blooming youth and blushing maiden 

Met to part — in silence all! 
While he threw the roses to her — 

The sweet roses by the wall. 



In that garden, fair as Eden, 

With the tall trees bending by, 
And the lover and the maiden 

Met to part so long for aye; 
Only as the spirit wanders 

Down through childhood's sacred hall^ 
Ling'ring where he threw the roses — 

The sweet roses by the wall. 



Sometimes when the sky is burning, 

And a hush is on the air, 
Then the spirit lingers, yearning, 

For the quiet beauty there, 
And the veiled silence calling 

Echoes back in mem'ry's hall, 
With the loved perfume of roses — 

The sweet roses by the wall. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 107 

EXPECTANCY. 

Cometh sweet air, of a clime thou hast half known? 

Reaches it thy senses, stealeth thy frame through 

As a prophecy, as of fair foreshadowing? 

Dreaming art thou in mystic, undeveloped world, 

Doubtful; unformed, and struggling 

To breathe more fully? Languishing for life 

In the uncertain and undefined world 

Of doubt and despair! Wavering as a star 

From its course turned. Dost thou scent the air far 

Of a glad new world ? Dost thou feel the sweet breath 

Of winds steal, that guided thee, heaven caught, 

In thy dreams, that trembled the lids of life 

Nigh waking? But the slow budded rose 

Opes not its petals till time to disclose 

That without which its world perishes. 

Now cometh a breath, thy glad being thrills 

With a strange, new life; awakening! 

One circleth the air thy wild'ring world fills, 

And thou tremblest in fear and exultest 

In expectancy! hiding to obscure, 

In clouds of dim darkling, the too real, 

And holding twixt doubt and hope the darling ideal! 

Rings of morn make a world! One rusheth on sure,. 

Thy own cometh to thee! Hast thou lived half a 

sphere 
Lacking thee? It is bounding through spaces pure,. 
But it cannot blend with thine till thou art where 



108 HARP OF HESPER. 

Thy love would have thee be, and doubt is holding 

thee 
Till thou art purified, and Heaven is circling thee 
In hushed wings of thy expectancy ! 



THE SOWER AND MOWER. 

A sower went forth to sow, 

He scattered good seed and bad ; 
The bad came up, but the good wouldn't grow, 

And seemed lost that he had, 
Till an angel came down and said : 

u I'll pull up the weeds for you." 
He reached to pull up the bad, 

And pulled up the good seeds, too. 
Then he bowed his beautiful head, 

As he took his sickle to mow. 
u The good'll live ever," he said ; 

" Continue you must to sow! " 



A mower went forth to mow ; 

" He could not do it," he said. 
*< The fair, bright blossoms a-blow, 

He'd let them live on in their bed, 
And the weeds are with them," he said; 

" Their tassels are all aglow." 
And he bowed to kiss the fair head 

That nodded and trembled so. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 10\y 

"Sweet blossom," said he, as he smiled, 

" The wild flower that blooms by thy bed 
Is, too, my own beautiful child!" 



THE INCOMING TIDE. 

I have a doubt, and shadows rise 

To blur the way before my eyes, 

And fear steps in to hurl a dart, 

That goes straight through to pierce my heart. 

The sky grows dark and tempest-tossed ! 

Then, O, I fear that I am lost, 

But faith steps in to help me through, 

And the heavenly land appears in view; 

O, then I say, my heart like steel 

Shall never quail, nor hurt shall feel! 

I'll brush away the mists that rise, 

And doubts for aye that veil my skies — 

For all is well! Below, above 

God's angels bend in pitying love, 

And clear the mists that gather by 

With balm for every gentlest sigh, 

With help that I may reach the goal, 

And brim with love a flowing bowl! 

For everyone whose skies are dim, 

Love's angels beckon up to Him! 

And everyone whose ships sail on, 

Full-freighted towards the setting sun, 

There shall come back another day 

Two ships for one that sailed away! 



110 HARP OF HESPER. 

For silver gone, there shall be gold 
Come back to bless a hundred-fold! 
For jewels all, for precious gems, 
Shall come a crown of diadems! 
In loving thoughts thou sends't away, 
Shall come in deeds another day; 
For all good deeds to Him there be, 
His angels minister more to thee. 
Nor morn, nor eve'n, nor night of care, 
But find His angels everywhere, 
Bending to bless, to heal, to raise, 
And pour to Him their songs of praise! 



THE NIGHT-BLOOMING JASMINE. 

O rove for sweets not far from this, 
My bonny little bird and bee; 

But linger with the night and kiss 
The jasmine's starry eyes for me! 

Here blooming neath the misty skies 
This waxy-petaled little flower, 

The sun to draw its sweets denies, 

And yields them in the still night hour. 

The bee may rove from buds and bells, 
And lilies fair, throughout the day, 

May drive him down in sweetest wells 
Of nectar, from all flowers gay ! 



SONGS AND POEMS. HI 

And youth may seek for fairer flower, 

When day the key of Flora holds, 
That he may deck his lady's bower, 
But wait him what the night unfolds! 

For me I turn as lover's eyes, 

That to the lips of beauty stray; 
And drink in blissful dreams the sighs 

Sweet Jasmine breathes, in love away. 



HER EYES. 
To Mrs. G. C d. 

« She walks in beauty like the light 

Of cloudless climes." The blue of skies 

Were days dipped in the starlit night, 
Could not outrival her sweet eyes! 

Her laughter rings amid the gay, 
Her feet trip lightly as the notes 

We hear at morn, when early day 
Expand's the little warbler's throats. 

So g-entle are her ways, and kind, 
May never care her brow distress; 

And all her paths in life but wind 

Where loving friends her smiles shall bless, 



112 HARP OF HESPER. 

"She walks in beauty" like the dreams 
That flit across our fancies' skies; 

When on our senses' sight there streams 
The glory of her star-bright eyes ! 



GO, FORGET THY SORROWS, CHILD. 
To Isabel. 

Why should pass in vain endeavor 
Precious hours in bitter tears; 

All the past has passed forever, 
Now begin some new-born years. 

Rear sweet flowers in Nature's pathway, 
Waiting for thy hand, and wild ; 

You can lift your burden some way, 
So forget thy sorrows, child. 

Over all the earth in beauty, 
Bend the minist'ring and kind; 

You can help them do their duty, 
Precious sheaves of love to bind. 

Ho, the workers! they are many, 
Many more are wanted now; 

You can glean the grain if any, 
Bind love's laurels on thv brow. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 113 

Not a pang thy fond heart merits, 

Life be happy, song beguiled, 
All for thee the earth inherits, 

Go, forget thy sorrows, child! 



SWEET PEAS. 

Beneath their bonneted caps lie hid 
Some starry, tender eyes I ween; 

Fringed sweet beneath the mimic lid, 
And little noses hid between. 

A mouth! ah me. I look to find 
Their precious little dew-drop lips, 

That kiss so rare the straying wind, 
And fancy nectar from them drips! 



MY COUSINS. 

I had three lovely cousins, 

Lena, Nell and May; 
But fleet as thought's swift pinions, 

They passed from earth away. 

Sometimes a wing droops by me; 

And then I fain would see, 
And comprehend the glory, 

Where these my loved must be! 
(8) 



114 HARP OF HESPER. 

I grasp as with a passion 

The doors of this, my night, 

That shuts so sternly from me 
The vision from my sight. 

Ah! love, but dim veil closes 
The perfect forms that rise ; 

Time stays not, nor discloses, 
Nor wild'ring of these eves. 



Gleams of their beauty haunt me, 

Wherever I do roam, 
Clad in the vestures garments 

Of a supernal home. 



HER NAME. 

To Mrs. S r. 

Adown, where flitting steps of time 

In memory's hall have jogged the hours — 
Closed doors, and knelt beside a vestal flame 

Of purity; in incense rising through such occult 
powers, 
And wreathing round a pillared fane sublime, 
Sweet memory : there would I carve her spotless 
name! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 115 

THE LOW-BEDDED COTS. 

'Neath the sparkling foam of the deeps of the sea, 
Lie the lovely of earth; where the coral beds be! 
We dream not, we cannot, of that slumb'rous deep, 
And the beings of beauty there folded asleep. 

O their beds are so peaceful! no mourner is there, 
No stone marks the spot of the sleeper so fair; 
Where the grasses a-waving above the deep deep, 
And palms falling over, as rapt wings a-keep! 

There down in the shadows, so softened and still, 
A greenwood is plotted, a fair vale and hill; 
Unmeasured by mortals, unnumbered by lots, 
Are the low-bedded slopes of the dim, vaulted cots! 

Not a mourner bends by in the shadowy glooms, 
And the pageant is only the palm-waving plumes! 
Not a tear is there falling, but a ceaseless life by, 
And anthems low swelling in the billow's deep sigh. 

There, down in the silence, so wrapt and so lone, 
Is marked not the age on the dust of a stone, 
But Time keeps a date, as the coral beds fill 
On a monument low, 'neath the cemetery hill. 

On the bed of old Ocean, where wave-beaten down 
Lie the low and the high, from the cross to the crown, 
Where the beautiful sleep in their pearly-strewn beds! 
And gems of old Ocean crown their low, lovely heads! 



116 HARP OF HESPER. 

O they went out at morn with happy hearts a-sail, 
And dreamed not of the rocks nor the incoming gale,. 
Where the mermaid screams in glee, the Carey chicken 

flies 
On foamy tossing spray, uneager for the skies. 

They went down to rest where the dead of earth meet 
In one common sepulcher; but God knows the feet, 
Unmeasured by mortals, unnumbered by lots, 
In the low-bedded slopes of the dim, vaulted cots! 

Where plumes low a-waving, and hosts of life dwells,, 
And rocks as in a cradle of billowy swells, 
That forever seems a-calling, and murm'ring sweet by,, 
And sad, for the lovely, the sea breathes its sigh! 

Where the beautiful sleep in the low-bedded cots, 
And no finger points by to mark out the lots 
But the finger of God, as He breaks the pearl bars 
For spirits to escape, securely held, as risen stars! 



DREAM'S PARADISE. 

Sleep, sleep! the mystery of sleep! 
That ever closed to light its lonely chambers keep, 
Until some traveler, by cares oppressed, 
Knocks at the silent door, and sighs for rest, 



SONGS AND POEMS. 117 

Then softly as color with the rose-bud blown, 
Folds gentle sleep's sweet wings a-down! 
Hovers as an angel, and with kisses on eyes, 
The weary one passs to Dream's Paradise. 

Downy be the couch, or with cold, hard bed, 
Sleep's hov'ring angel, still watches his head, 
Caresses his form, magnetizes the brow, 
Sweetly the slumberer lies resting there now. 
Those curtains have fallen, the silky, soft spreads 
That the ever-present watcher on the downy cheek 

threads, 
And peace lays her robe o'er and tints the soul's skies, 
While the weary one is resting in Dream's Paradise! 



LOVE'S HARP. 
To Lottie. 

Were I to touch Love's harp for thee, 
I'd clothe my thoughts with wings, 

That all the noisy world might see, 
For thee how sweet it sings! 

But O, such power bideth with naught, 
My striving brings to light, 

Yet sings all by itself, unsought, 
When the heart is atune — is right. 



118 HARP OF HESPER. 

Then strains so indefinable 

To senseless souls apart, 
Sweep o'er the harp's beloved strings 

And thrills the poet's heart ! 

And to strike at once song's breathing lyre, 

To grasp with magic art, 
And chain in verse love's glowing fire, 

Gives life to the poet's heart. 



ETERNITY'S SECRET. 

All we love on earth must fade, 

Must pass, by change, through shine and shade, 

Around, above, beneath, within, 

From atoms small to worlds that spin! 

But only change. They ne'er can die, 
Then why our thoughts that mount and fly? 
That fly with speed to worlds of light, 
And picture homes there fair and bright. 

Our loving thoughts that heavenward tend 
To meet the long-lost, absent friend; 
These are ourselves! inhabitants, 
The being that the body haunts. 

The fettered soul, that longs to know, 
To grasp the real, above, below, 
Awhile in prison pent and bound, 
Anon on better vantage ground! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 119 

Just now a worm in rusty shell, 

Or prisoner in a bounded cell; 

Confined for days, weeks, months and years, 

Until at last some change appears. 

Some crumbling, weather-beaten stone 
Gives way, and then the pris'ner's gone! 
Gone where? Eternity must tell, 
For oh! it keeps the secret well. 



THE DAISIE'S MISSION* 

On a lone grave, wild bloomed a flower, 
The daisy, meek and mild; 

As lowly in its native bower 
As was fair Bethlehem's child. 

Alone, and pitying it kept 

Its vigils o'er the spot, 
Where Poe, Columbia's poet, slept 

Long years; but love heeds not! 

How chanced this flower to bloom apart, 
Why flown from some shy cleft, 

To lie above the poet's heart, 
Fair dream of love bereft? 

A little waif from heaven, it grew, 

And borne was far away 
To Tennyson, who ever knew 

The poet's heart, whereon it lay. 

* Presented to Tennyson by Miss Landor. 



120 HARP OF HESPER. 



NOT TO EXIST. 



Ah, were it sweet to close the eye, be dumb the ear, 
Never to wake again? Shut out from fear, 
Still slumb'ring on. The millions overhead, 
Regarding it a fact, " They all are dead "! 
Forgetful of all ties that draw the heart from ill, 
And every fondest wish that does the bosom fill; 
Silently to sleep 'neath a rose-bed sod, 
Forgotten by the world — almost by God! 
Were this our fate, how strange that for to-day 
The sun should shine so brightly o'er the way, 
The myriad-atomed mites of things that be 
Exist so full of life, and fair to see! 
That all the universe should teem with life, 
Each struggling for mastery in the strife; 
And when at last their battling scene is o'er, 
New armies rise, more brilliant than before; 
New beauties grace the face of mother earth 
When spring again renews the rose tree's birth! 
And warbling birds again build in the tree 
The nest where love held mimic revelry! 
O, how can this be true: that we shall cease 
When all of love and life go on — increase? 
When sound so sweet to sense, to rapture's ear, 
Would lose its charms, nor half so dear; 
If this were all our little bound of earth and sky, 
And voices that we love were born to die! 
O, I shall sleep sometime, I know, and blend 
My dust with nature's elements; such end 



SONGS AND POEMS. 121 

I cannot know, fain were to grasp the unseen, 

It is I love to be, because I've ever been 

With God, and in His thought; no heaven were 

there to be 
If all His children, mine, could not live, too, with me ! 
And earth would seem a silent dungeon round 
Were all of us to slumber in the ground, 
Nor ever wake again, conscious we've lived, 
Knowing the best of us at last survived ; 
That all the dross oj us had fallen away, 
And saved a part not made of earth and clay, 
The fair ideal and lovely counterpart 
Of Heaven's gifts, now sacred to the heart! 



THE MYSTICAL ISLE. 

Let me go, said a youth, to some far away isle, 
Where no thought can e'er come to allure or beguile, 
And the soul can live on undisturbed and secure 
In a world all its own, ever sacred and pure! 

Do you know, said the youth, of a land bright and fair, 
Where sorrow ne'er enters, nor the pale specter care? 
And life all. sublime! Where love, peace and joy 
Live on with the soul, ne'er marred by alloy? 

I believe, said a friend — though I've often been told 
No such spot does exist for the young nor the old — 
I believe there's a clime and a sweet sheltered vale, 
Where the roses of love never whither nor pale! 



122 HARP OF HESPER, 



I have heard of a spot and a sweet, shady bower, 
In a far island home, where the sun nor the shower 
Are ever too fierce, and the rainbow of dyes 
Are tingeing with golden its violet skies; 



Where at eve the sky drips with ambrosial dew, 
Distilled by the hands of those angels we knew, 
From flowers that bloom in a garden so fair 
That none but the blessed can ever go there! 



I once knew an angel who left the dim vale, 
But now walks the paths where those blossoms ex- 
hale; 
She would oft leave her home in those regions of bliss, 
To be guarding and hov'ring around thee in this. 



Let me go, said the youth, where the loving may come ! 
And hallowed forever the presence of home, 
I will live on the dew that shall fall from those hands, 
Till mortal, immortal, shall view the bright lands ! 



I will list to her voice that shall cheer me the while 
In my far-away home on the Mystical Isle, 
And my soul shall ne'er hunger nor thirst any more, 
Till my bark shall push off for the beautiful shore. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 123 

THE RAIN. 

O how beautiful the rain comes down 
And sweetens all about the dusty town ; 

Round yellow grasses it waves and laves, 
In little shiny pools a silv'ry crown! 

O how delicious the air seems here, 
Washed by the waters of the sky so clear, 

Patter, patter, patter on the pane comes the rain, 
Every drop a diamond in God's hand dear. 

O how the flowers lift their sweet heads up, 
And gather in the bubbles, a brimming cup; 

Ever flowing over on the stems, roll the gems, 
Fit for any lord, or even king to sup. 

Far above the flowers, the rain and the air 
Shines the sun of heaven, and God's love there 
Ever-falling showers, as rain on the flowers, 
It softens the heart and washes it bare. 



THE TEMPERANCE FLAG. 

Rally round the flag, the temp'rance flag, 
The lily-white flag that is calling; 

Hurry to the flag! young men, do not lag 
While so many older ones are falling. 



124 HARP OF HESPEK. 

Come my gallant boys, our fireside's hopes and joys; 

See! its lightsome folds for you are waving. 
Be up and doing then; save yourselves; you save the 
men, 

And the world you'll be the means of saving. 

By this standard true you can dare and do; 

You can fight the foes of Peace and Plenteousness; 
For the man who drinks seldom stops and thinks 

That liquor is a foe to health, wealth and happiness. 

But the wiser plan is to be a man 

Of firmness, for the truth and right prevailing; 
Drink the draught of home, where your loved ones 
come — 

The drink that seldom causes pain or ailing. 



Drink this banner round! pure water from the ground, 
And crystal drops from Heaven's hand falling; 

Then the dimes you'll save, temptations you will brave, 
If you heed in time the voice that's calling. 



Be brave boys then, and true; you will conquer if 
you do; 
You will win the goal of health and pleasure ; 
Nor you'll regret it, when, you can make the better 
men, 
And for yourselves lay up in heaven your treasure. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 125 

FULFILLMENT. 

Fed by the dreams expectant of fond Desire, 

Hope draws the argosied ship, heaving in sight, 

And riding o'er buffeting waves higher and higher, 
Reaches at last the heavenly port of Love's delight. 



WOMAN. 

Unhappy many, who should claim Love's onlv care; 
Uncomplaining, woes and sorrows share. 
Who fearless climb alone Ambition's steep; 
Nor shrink to share the dang'rous, downward leap. 
Thrice tripled woes upon the fair, defenceless head 
Are gathered oft, where should be peace instead. 
The bosom, tranquil once as summer's sea, 
Heaves oft with storms of direst misery ; 
And Pride, with will of iron, curbs the heart, 
Nor yields till all its walls are rent apart. 
O woman! wert thou born to humbled be, 
And Fate the ruler of thy destiny? 
Forbid it, O just Heaven who hears my prayer; 
And earth's evangels, who are everywhere, 
Let Freedom ride in her triumphal car 
And wave her banner from near and far, 
Till the sweet dove of Peace light down in each home 
Where the noblest of earth's beings — a free woman — 
shall come. 



126 HARP OF HESPER. 

BEAUTY. 

Is Beauty the visible or invisible soul? 

I asked. Is she hid in the whorl, 
The low beaded pearl, closed down by the roll 

Of billowy swell, and crystal waves' curl? 

Is she kept in the visible fold of a flower, 
In stamen and pistil — the breath of perfume 

That lieth asleep in the slow morning hour, 

Till the bud has expanded and wakened in bloom ? 

Where is Beauty? I asked, for I cannot find her; 

My soul is athirst for the glance of her eyes, 
The soul of her song — rhythmic pulses astir 

As I waken Truth's heaven-born breath of replies. 

She's not for you here! You but dimly see her 
In the visible world, though she's hid in the mine, 

The whorl-star or flower; •Love's pulses astir 
Catch a flash of her form, but her soul is divine. 



A WISH. 
To C. W. C. 

The sky is smiling sweet and fair, 
A bright bird sings on yonder tree, 

And O its song floats on the air, 

The air of Heaven love breathes to thee. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 127 

I bid it sing a song of joy, 

A song of rest and peace to be; 
While all the hills and vales employ 

Their time in carrying the song to thee. 

Its loving song, with the roving bee, 

And flowers their fragrant sweets disclose, 

1 bid yon bird to sing on free, 

And carry the breath o' the fragrant rose 

With its song afar! Steal to the chair 

Of an evangel, whose kind deeds 
Bring health and strength. O balmy air! 

Touch on his cheek the rose love feeds. 

Express from all sweet thoughts of things 
That Heaven doth hold in store of prayer, 

From roving bird, that sweetly sings, 
And blend his life, O balmiest air ! 



OUR BABY. 

Our baby has the power 

Of mystic blooming flower; 
Some breath of love has touched with perfume, O so 
rare ! 

She has a pretty mouth, 

As winds from sunny south 
Her breath comes as soft breezes' kiss upon the air. 



128 HARP OF HESPER. 

She has two pretty feet, 

They are so nice and neat; 
They'll trip away as fairies a lovely little pair. 

She has two dimpled hands 

O ! on from Eden's lands 
They beckon us to follow, in Love's sweet presence 
there. 



She has a form of grace, 
The angels' stamp of face, 
And I know we love God better, where she is any- 
where. 

Her presence we revere, 
As an angel coming here, 
And O a jewel's setting, that's wondrous sweet and 
rare. 



MY MADELINE. 



Wake the harp, O star-eyed, e'en 
While I sing — my Madeline. 
Sweetly dawn O morning fair, 
On the midnight of her hair, 
Sweet Madeline, dear Madeline! 
She came a light life's clouds between. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 129 

Step O lightly on the hours, 

Time, and breathe through fragrant flowers; 

Wake with joy the morning scene, 

Where she roves, my Madeline, 

Sweet Madeline, dear Madeline! 

Climes of song, royes Madeline. 

Wake the harp, and sing with me 
All ye joyous lives there be. 
Night unveil thy glowing scene, 
Where she moves my dark-eyed queen. 
Dear Madeline, loved Madeline! 
Blaine me not, my dark-eyed queen. 

When my life's hopes sinking were, 
Came a radiant angel there; 
Burst a star the clouds between, 
A stare of love — my Madeline — 
Sweet Madeline, dear Madeline! 
Blame me not my star-eyed queen. 



THE POET'S WISH. 

Give me some little cot, 
From busy scenes away, 

In a quiet little spot, 

Where one might always stay. 

(9) 



130 HARP OF HESPER. 

Some dell in woodland bowers, 
Where sky with nature weds, 

And slowly slip the hours 
On golden beaded threads. 

A fair, enchanted spot, 

Heaven smiles when it begets, 

Where evil troubleth not; 

And Time his scythe forgets. 

Spell-bound where Beauty lies, 
So wrapt in arms of Truth, 

He from their presence Hies, 

And spares the realms of youth. 



There could I live alway, 

Beliefs of ill unknown, 
With Peaee and Love to stay, 

E'en dark-winged Death be flown. 

Thus does the poet long 

For peace, and quiet, where 

Comes a perpetual song 
Of Life, forever there. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 131 

THE DESERTED OLD HOME. 

Oh! the old home is deserted, the old home is deserted, 
And 'tis said the ghosts of midnight haunt the air; 
The home that was so cherished ; the many friends 

there perished ; 
And my saintly brother sleeping down in the valley 

there. 

CHORUS. 

Wave, wave, grasses wave, 

Above each lonely grave; 

And bird-notes charm the silence of the air, 

And roses drip in nectar where they lie: 
In the valley, in the valley, 

Sleeping sweet and fair, sleeping there, sleep- 
ing there. 

O the old home it was lovely; the old home it was 

lovely ; 
And the rose my saintly brother planted there, 
Still keeps a spot enchanted, by the home they say is 

haunted; 
And I fancy many footfalls resting there 

Chorus. — Wave, wave, etc. 



132 HARP OF HESPER. 

HASTE WITH ME. 

Haste with me, the woods are fair, 
The sunshine lingers softly there; 
And dewy gems so fair and bright 
Are flashing in the morning light; 
Then haste with me, the woods are fair,, 
The sunshine lingers softly there, 
And all the gems of morning rare 
Are flashing down so coyly there, 

So coyly there, 
Are flashing down so coyly there. 

Then sing, O sing! the world is fair 
As vernal spring, forever there; 
The world is fair, so fair and bright 
Forever where the heart is right. 
Then sing, O sing! the world is fair 
As vernal spring, forever where 
The heart is right, and gems so rare 
Are flashing down from heaven there, 

From heaven there, 
Are flashing down from heaven there. 



THE SLIPSHOD SHOE. 

I'm a happy fellow, I never care a fig 

If you hit me with your elbow, and give my ribs a dig. 

1 gang along in life my hat on askew, 
With a roly-poly gait in my bobtailed blue; 



SONGS AND POEMS. 133 

What do I care for the world's frowns a few, 
I take an easy gait, in a slipshod shoe. 

I take an easy pace, what if the world does frown, 
I jog along the same, up hill or down, 
I whistle to the wind, an old tune or new, 
And shuffle on in life, be black skies or blue; 
With my easy-going gait I sing a song for you: 

gang along in life with a slipshod shoe. 

The winds may chilly blow; heavy storms may fall; 

1 sing the cheerier, and drive away it all; 

I'm a happy fellow, the world is happy too; 

1 never wear a frown, my skies are always blue, 
And if they change a bit, I whistle something new, 
And shuffle 'em bright again, in my slipshod shoe. 



THE EMIGRANT'S FORTUNE. 

I mind me of a German family, Robie by name, 

That over the ocean to the far West came; 

And poor. They dwelt with some friends awhile, 

until 
They could earn them a home. With purpose and will 
They hired to the neighbors. Fate stern to bend, 
Mrs. Robie and grandmother held the yokes' end, 
And made the time count in dollars and dimes, 
Bv working- in the fields. In the house between times 



134 HARP OF HESPER. 

They knitted and sewed, spun, wove and taught 
The little ones German, as good parents ought. 
Early and late they worked out, and they saved, 
And many a battle of denial they braved 
To get means for a home; and they did it at last; 
Which much made amends for the fate of their past. 



One acre of ground they purchased at the start, 

And Fritz put a house up — a frame — with some art, 

Which he soon sided up in such decent shape 

That he rented some rooms, bringing money, the while 

He worked and earned more. Fritz was a carpenter, 

And a farmer good, too. Now, the times were astir 

For help in the field. Good wages were paid, 

So the family flourished, nor of want were afraid. 

A neighbor near by gave Fritz an old mare, 

And soon they had a cow, fowl, and pigs, too, to spare ; 

A colt the mare had. The beginning was good 

In the home that snugly by the railroad track stood. 



Four years had come and gone since from u Father- 
land " here 

Mr. Robie, wife and mother, with little children dear, 

Landed in America, so poor they but reached the route's 
end, 

And, fortunate for them, they here found a friend! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 135 

Now, this day four years, grandma Robie heard a 

scream 
Of the locomotive whistle; like the flash of a dream 
She saw her poor pigs on the dangVous rail-track, 
And she ran with all speed, ere they hit were a whack ; 
She scrambled in face of the engine far o'er 
To save her good pigs. The engine rushed before 
And caught at the woman. " O my pigs, my poor 

pigs!" 
Was all that she said; they ran off dancing jigs. 
Her daughter screamed, to her: " Mother, you'r killed!" 
"My poor pigs, my poor pigs!" only this her mind 

filled. 
The engineer ran back to the city for help; 
A surgeon came; there was grandma laid by on a shelf 
For burial, so to speak, and the priest he stood by, 
And friends gathered round to have a good cry. 
The surgeon took a leg off, examined rough digs, 
While grandma moaned only, " My pigs, my poor pigs!" 
But to die she would not. And soon she was well 
And chasing the pigs on one leg, strange to tell! 
But of course she used crutches. 'Tis said in a day 
She did more work than ever in ev'ry kind of way; 
Doing for the children, saving with care, 
Indoor and out, she hobbled everywhere. 
While Fritz and his wife went to work day by day 
In the fields of the farmers, ever earning good pay, 
Grandma chased the pigs and cattle, kept the house 

well, 
Gathered safely the eggs, and made butter to sell. 



L36 HARP OF HESPER. 

In caring for the children, combed nicely their hair, 
And braided snug for a week; bathed, too, they all 

were. 
In the fall from the geese they saved feathers to sell, 
And salted the bodies, which served a change so well; 
Some parts they hung up and smoked a nice brown, 
A dish that the king himself fain were to own! 
And at night when the little ones, ten, tucked were in 

bed, 
(They'd been raised on a bottle to save time, and fed) 
Then the two women toiled at the wheel and the loom, 
Or scrubbed up the floor, and made a rose bloom. 
Grandmother would spin with one foot very fair, 
While her daughter wove the cloth for clothing they 

should wear. 
And many a time they never thought of rest 
Till late into the night, and sleep so heavy pressed. 
So they worked, saved and lived, all neat as could be, 
And reared up the children — a nice family — 
With grandmother's help; she, the heroine true, 
With a firm hold on life, to Germany due. 
Long may she live! And she's living on still; 
For such soul there's no grave, nor cemetery hill! 
But the brave wife fell ill; a long time 'twas feared 
To the dim discovered shore her bark had quite neared. 
And Fritz, a tender man, he nursed her up well, 
And she, too, is living their history to tell. 

This true tale happened, friend, near a score of years ago, 
On the sloping prairies Nicollet's people know. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 137 

But the family have moved where such waving billows 

roll 
Of grain the farmer loves. They have rimmed a golden 

bowl, 
And made a fairer home, where grandma's loving smiles, 
And children's happy songs declining life beguiles. 
She can rest her weary limbs, and lay the crutches by! 
O, hush my harp of song, as I heave a tender sigh, 
When I muse on how she made those knitting needles 

fly! 
And heed this moral all: Toil sweetens well-earned 

rest, 
Nor age can put a stop to life if you give your powers 

the test. 



THE HEROINE OF WALLSCLIFF. 

All night a storm raged on Australian coast, 

And wildly beat the cliff-bound shore, 
Where braver little heroine, no country could boast, 

Grace Russell of the W'allscliff shore. 

Her father was away to a distant town, 

Herself and mother now quite alone 
In the little farm house, nestling cosily down, 

Near those cliffs where the wild waves were thrown! 

Said Grace in the morning, excited and pale, 

To her mother: " I couldn't sleep for the thought 

That no ship could outlive such a terrible gale; 
And, Oh, the danger to poor seamen fraught!" 



138 HARP OF HESPER. 

A loud rap was' heard — Sam Isaacs at the door — 

A native negro, and friendly to them, 
Cried, " Oh, Miss Grace! a ship's wrecked off de shore,. 

Where no boat can live, nor de wild waves stem!" 

" Go quickly, Grace dear," said Mrs. Russell, 
" You may be able to help, but do not be rash! " 

Her mother's last words Grace scarcely could tell, 
As with a hasty kiss she heard the waves dash! 

She rushed to the stable to harness Nero, 

Her father's splendid black — mounted and flew, 

Following- Sam on his pony, so fleetly did they go; 
She minded not the sea, nor the tossing winds that 
blew! 

She urged proud Nero on, snorting he through foam; 

And crested wave away, a boat was soon espied 
Full-launched from the ship; as nearer they had come, 

She saw it wave-engulfed. "On, Nero, on!" she 
cried. 

She reached the spot to find the people clinging by 
The boat and timbers still; but faces of despair 

Told the tale of agony — the fate that seemed so nigh, 
Till Grace appeared in sight so bravely coming there. 

She grasped a little babe, one person holding on, 

And through the foaming waves struggled to the 
shore ; 



SONGS AND POEMS. 139 

As her mother took them home, quickly was she gone, 
Rode joyfully the sea, and safely brought in more! 

Sam followed after now, the waves not quite so wild ; 

And noble Nero turned, without urging any more,, 

While Mrs. Russell thanked Heaven for such a 

precious child. 

Grace brought them all in safe, and landed on the 

shore! 

This was a daring feat, but Grace had braved before 
The foamy, surging waves, on the rock-bound cliff; 

And skirted with brave Nero the wild Australian 
shore, 
And on the billowy sea had tossed in little skiff! 

How sweet the rest that comes after a noble deed; 
Grace slept that night, and dreampt the sailor's hum- 
ble homes 
Had seen an angel bending, and heard a mother plead, 
" O God protect my boy, who on the wild sea 
roams! " 

"And Heaven protect my child!" said Mrs. Russell, 
when 
Grace early joined the family — her father's heartfelt 
prayer 
Was he'd returned to find his dear friends safe again ; 
" And mother, you," said Grace, " were brave as I 
was there ! " 



140 HARP OF HESPER. 

Grace ne'er would acknowledge she danger had braved. 

When Royal Society Humane a medal bestowed, 
She affirmed: "Nero, brave creature! the people had 
saved, 

And I only guided and on his back rode! 

" Oh, and it was wild, where the foamy waves tossed, 
As Nero plunged down on the rocky bed shore, 

And rose launching out, and the deeper seas crossed; 
1 never can forget his plunging — never more! 

" And I was like a bird, with silver-dripping wing, 
And but a little message of hope to bear away! 

But when I reached the drowning, O such a noble 
thing, 
I thought as Nero did, would live in history's day! " 



CONEMAUGH VALLEY FLOOD. 

* From a Traveler s Notes. 

In eighteen hundred eighty-nine, in May, 
Going south to Washington City, on my way, 
While passing through the Conemaugh Vale, 
Little did I dream of the dreadful tale 
I now try to relate. As the train neared a hill, 
Suddenly the cars with a lurch stood still; 

* Mrs. M. J. Blaisdell. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 141 

And the word soon came, "A land-slide ahead 
Would detain us some hours." The full river's bed, 
And rain pouring down in torrents the while, 
Bespoke a dull prospect. The time to beguile, 
We made a mark at sight upon a house-door 
Across the river, where such a steady down pour, 
We thought, must swell a flood! And should we tarry 

here 
We could watch it while waiting the land-slide to clear 
And let us move along. At Woodvale coming by, 
We noticed people moving from lower rooms to high, 
And did not deem it strange, so heavy hung the clouds — 
Ah me, I see them now, as warning water shrouds! 
We thus watched the water rise — passed the time away, 
Unheeding that above us a deep so monstrous lay — 
A reservoir so insecure, its dam about to break 
And roll into the valley an avalanchine lake, — 
Great Heaven ! those skies portentous as dripping 

wing that sweeps, 
While gathering to its folding the brood forever 

sleeps! 

I was on the Day Express, from Chicago south bound; 
Later on No. 2 rolled in, trembling the ground, 
And stopped by our side. We had company now ; 
Nor stilled the anxiety that hovered each brow, 
And showed apprehensive the faces upon, 
To see the flooded valley; nor could we move on! 
Men began to stir in and out through the aisles, 
Peered out of the windows, and "between whiles" 



142 HARP OF HESPER. 

Asked the conductor, " Why don't we move on? 
What's the matter ahead, is the land-slide not gone?" 
Passengers grew uneasy at being so tied — 
Nervous the women, the small children cried. 
Tired with the worry, and with hunger, too, vexed, 
We trembled at the thought of what might happen 

next! 
Now came a telegram, the awful news portent 
With alarm; and with horror a message was sent 
From the mountain top down — spare, O Heaven, the 

tale! 
From woman's hands it traveled upon the wire — the 

wail — 
Into the valley, into villages nestling round — 
On to city of Johnstown, the warning sound: 
"Run to the hills! to the hills or you're lost! 
Run for your lives, run! the reservoir will burst; 
Heed my appeal! 'tis the last may be given, 
For bursting its barriers South Dam is soon riven!" 
Just God, shall I tell it! People laughed there, and said 
Twas always the cry— such word they had had 
Before. Only a hoax, such a dreadful rain-pour; 
Hut from the faithful hands it thrilled, ah, never more! 



In the cars excitement was growing intense 

And awful, so hemmed in was the suspense. 

Hut the officers were cool; and if occurred the thought 

To turn our course back, ere with danger so fraught 

The bridge should go out; 'twas likely any way; 

It was so firmly built naught could take that away ; 



SONGS AND POEMS. 143 

And not the hero's course to backward turn and fly, 
For officers at their post must stand there though they 

die! 
Now all the precious moments so dreadful wearing on, 
If thoughts could move such mountain the land-slide 

would been gone! 
But that was not to be. 

Here let my willing pen 
Write out in fitting theme the nobleness of men, 
For all they did their best. Nor apprehensive were 
That danger was so nigh ; or with good natured stir 
They would have cleared the cars, and sent us to the 

hills. 
But now this tale of woe my page of history fills, 
And bids me seek excuse, why we stayed stupidly, 
But that the air was dank with gruesome, sickly sea 
That dully held us in. But O, when skies were bright, 
To ramble on those hills would been our great delight, — 
To while those hours away. 

There, too, to view the scene, — 
A valley lying fair, where glimmered rivers' sheen 
'Twixt mountain slopes. On either side away 
Rose streets of pretty villages, this ever fateful day! 
And circling round a hill, East Conemaugh 
To left of us, with three streets running low- 
By railroad track. Across the river round 
West Conemaugh rose fair on higher ground; 
While Johnstown, Cambria and Kernville 
Closed in the scene, with mountain, stream and hill, 



144 HARP OF HESPER. 

Where all this peaceful valley, startled now, 
Soon heard the thunder call and felt the stunning blow: 
"Run to the hills, O run! a flood is bursting o'er 
To sweep the mountain down, and hills from shore to 
shore ! " 

Now all along the river's bed was land filled in, 
And lapping over some now firm but beating thin; 
It shook and quivered low when heavy, coming trains 
Rolled in, and rumbled with the beating rains, 
And shaking us with fear, nor knew the fatal hour 
Was just about to strike, and down the mountain pour. 
This avalanchine fury; that tipping now was by 
A body dark with gloom, and to apalling fly 
With its full force! So insecure the clayey wall 
At South Fork Dam. The water had swirled all 
The weary day, slow pushing down with steady force 
And breaking more and more the dam, and in its course 
Had carried the accumulated mass of debris 
Down 'gainst the bridge. This slow gathering sea 
Had jammed a great weight with sure, hemming power 
Ere fell the full force, ere struck the fatal hour! 

We had waited five hours — from nine o'clock till two- — 
When the Vestibule from New York rolled beside us, 

too. 
Three trains upon the track, in face of that grim flood 
So soon to empty over a million-barreled tub, 
A many million feet — miles it stretched away, 
And near a hundred deep the awful liquid lay! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 145 

Headed we toward it, where the mountain towered o'er, 

And surely bursting now the dam with fearful power; 

Nor who there dreampt one car could swim such fear- 
ful wave — 

One soul survive the wreck where thousands found a 
grave ! 

Fearful of trouble coming, tired out at best, 
And discouraged; with hunger and fear oppressed, 
We trembled with fright; where babe's laughter glad 
Unheeded. Conductor and brakemen looked sad, 
Walking the cars. Telegraph poles in the mud, 
And a side track gone, ere struck the dark flood. 
All at once swelled a noise, and loud rang the cry : 
"Dam is gone! dam is gone! to the hills now or you 

die!" 
And there was no escape, unless the land-slide gone, 
We still hoped against hope to, Oh, be moving on! 

Next we heard a whistle shrill, a locomotive blast, 
Coming on toward us, moving fearful fast, 
Tearing down the mountain, the horseshoe curve, 
Blanched with fear the faces and quiv'ring ev'ry nerve. 
But, O, the awful signal we did not comprehend, 
Or should have rushed at once where hills their help 

would lend — 
Excitement was so great! The screeching engine 

stopped. 
As o'er that engineer a wall of water dropped 
A wailing cry went by, as though a specter passed, 
And mingled in the dirge that with the torrent dashed! 

(10) 



146 HARP OF HESPER. 

The rushing, roaring flood that carried down to doom 
And hung a pall of horror as dark as midnight's gloom, 
Without one star of hope, but that on mem'ry's page 
A few should live to mourn Youth, Beauty and Old 

Age! 
We breathed a silent prayer, that the noble soul 

survives, 
As came the thrilling cry, "To the hills now for your 

lives." 
Glancing across the river, we saw no more the mark 
The rain had swelled a flood that rolled deep and dark! 
I seized my cap and cloak, left my satchel there; 
My money, too, was in it, but O, what did I care! 
I never stopped to think. To leap the car steps o'er 
I stopped was by a cripple, whom Heaven did implore! 
And O, I weep to say it, he nobly gave me place ; 
Nor can I e'er forget how eloquent his face! 
Soon was he swept away with avalanchine shroud 
That wrapped him all unheeding, the thunder of its 

cloud, 
And sent its spray far on, as with a wicked breath 
It lapped, as monster animal, the people down to death. 
Thank Heaven! I prayed to God, and, Oh! he heard 

my prayer, 
And sent a brakeman brave, who came and dragged 

me where 
I stood above the track, upon a side hill nigh, 
But few feet from the flood that rolled so roaring by! 
And O, to-day that brakeman — Galbraith was his name — 
Lives in my heart, in mem'ry. On marble carve his 

name! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 147 

For I was in a ditch of muddy water, where 

My struggles were so great, and nearly drowning 

there. 
Upon the hills some saw me, as, floundering about, 
I scarce could help myself, till Galbraith dragged me 

out. 
Pd jumped off from the car and cut the distance short 
By squeezing 'twixt two buildings; but, as a thing of 

sport, 
The wind had taken me down, and down again, 
Until I landed in the ditch, which, not so bad for men,' 
Of no avail my strength! I live to tell the tale, 
And Heaven to thank, the loss of life bewail, 
And O, the mournful fate of those whose pleading eyes 
Were eloquent with voices, the raging torrent flies! 
And Johnstown, fated city, lying there so low, 
Had felt so many times the waters' rising flow; 
She heeded not the warning — the wire, nor ringing cry, 
"Run to the hills, O run! or you must surely die!" 
And the broken wire ceased soon its thrilling, warning 

sound ; 
The faithful hands were folded in silence so profound ; 
And the horseman rode away to the Valley of Despair, 
And sank within the torrent that surged a death sea 

there. 
A pall as dark as midnight fell from the mountain's 

brow 
And hung the valley over with sable mantle now ; 
Flapped low with drooping wing the brooding birds of 

night, 
To hover as a shadow those homes once fair and bright; 



148 HARP OF HESPER. 

Nor sing in glowing hours the livelier, gayer throng, 
To listening ears of morning, stilled now and hushed 
the song! 

While lingering on the scene that haunts my mem'ry's 

eye, 
I shudder now to think how near that deep rolled by; 
With deafening, roaring noise it tipped its force 
Upon the mountain side and hollowed out its course, 
And, as monster animal, crunched with a quick grind 
The three streets low. With snorting spray and wind, 
It swept the round-house, depot, engines high 
On breast of the flood. Telegraph tower tipped by, 
With hotels, boarding houses, people riding on — 
Men, women and children screaming and gone! 
As though by cannon's blast submerged in blood 
Went many thousand souls, riding on topmost flood 
To certain death; with never a name, date nor grave 
They fell beneath the ruins. 

While many an arm to save 
Reached out, and Heaven breathes sweet as holy 

prayers 
The names of many brave who trip down mem'ry's 

stairs. 
I recall pale Mrs. Halford and daughter from " Vesti- 
bule," 
Were saved by colored porter — a brave man he, and 

cool. 
Heaven bless his soul; for such 'twere well to say 
Their souls shine out as white as any other clay, 



SONGS AND POEMS. 149 

And scenes like unto this blind with shame the prying 

eye 
That sees a difference where deeds speak volumes by. 
Many a helping hand searched the hills that night, 
And brought the sorrowing in, the lonely, wand'ring 

wight. 
And ere the fierce flood fell we were quite in some 

doubt 
Whether to stay within the car or face the flood without. 
But Donaldson reminded me that certain death was 

nigh 
Unless to save myself I from the car did fly ! 
And that poor cripple afterward, I learned, met his fate 
As a stranger tried by carrying him to save, but O, too 

late 
To save himself. He laid his helpless burden down 
And fled for life away above the sinking town, 
The crutches in his hand, sad relics of the deeps 
That rolled so many people within the debris heaps. 
And when the tumbling flood tipped o'er the Day Ex- 
press, 
One car it hurled a-rolling where, clinging in distress, 
Three ladies stood; were seen to clasp their hands and 

leap 
Within the billows swift and all relentless deep. 
Two men around the ever-turning carriage crept, 
Clinging for life! Where many another soul was 

swept 
Down and away, they lived ; and O, to sad bemoan 
The fate of their companions, who like a dream were 



150 HARP OF HESPER. 

And babes as fair as flowers the morning opes to bless 
Went down from mothers' arms beneath the waves' 
caress ! 

At Johnstown was a lady, she'd climbed the attic stair 
To gain an entrance to the roof, three stories, where 
In vain she tried for egress ; then placed her babies two 
Upon a raft, so high the risen flood; and what, O, 

could she do! 
Wee girls out on a door, and held against the waves; 
But O, the surges took them and rocked to dreamless 

graves! 
Said one, as flashing from the mother's sight away, 
"Good bye, O mama, dear; in heaven's no rainy day!" 
" Dood dye, O mama, dear!" the other, lisping cried, 
And clasped sweet together they passed beyond the 

tide. 
The mother through the window climbed just above 

the cloud 
That lapped her darlings under, and lay her living 

shroud ! 

Now here the desolation, the whirling debris swept 
Against the bridge of stone, that all the while had kept 
Its place the same, and gathered as greedy maw, 
All-swallowing the quick and dead, against its walls as 

straw ! 
And gave not back but in a stench — Heaven forbear! 
Till rocks were rent — the thousands slumb'ring there, 
The mortal part. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 151 

Why more relate these scenes of woe! 
Oblivion, roll thy waters o'er and lap this fetid flow; 
Waft, sunny South, in winds of od'rous scented sweets, 
And loving hearts pour balm, as time's sad echo beats. 
But spare O pity's page, my harp ne'er wakes but stills 
The scene where tears of sorrow have washed those 

circling hills, 
But bring not back the lost who ever'll haunt with wails 
The memory of those homes — those mountains, hills 

and vales ; 
For each a specter flies Up where the pines' sad breath 
Drops all the year around an arrow for each death. 
And all the year around, the wind with soughing sighs, 
Mingling with night in pity, and weeps in dewy eyes 
The tender flowers. While wreathed from beauty's 

breath, 
From lovers' vows and kisses sweet, that fell on lips 

with death, 
Steal voices born of love. And peacefully as sleep 
Comes to the mourner hope — the sad eyes cease to weep. 



Draw o'er thy mind a veil, and let thy tears fall low 
As I close the mournful tale— the Vale of Conemaugh. 
That night upon the mountain I slept, and woke to see 
Between the parted curtains the masses of debris. 
And burning were the cars, some lime had set afire; 
Blazing, they lit the heavens as a funereal pyre ; 
While all around the hills, bemoaning friends and home, 
The wanderers went about. Shelter there was for 
some, 



152 HARP OF HESPER. 

But the wind blew cold and pitiless — all sounds were 

full of woe; 
And where was once the railroad was now the river's 

flow. 
The houses had changed places, those that did abide, 
And a monstrous rock had rolled adown the mountain's 

side, 
'Twas said. And far to sea some timbers floated on, 

God! and riven spirits passed an unknown sea 

upon, 
Out where? To climes' perennial shores of peace 
Have found to grief, to pain and parting sweet sur- 
cease, 
And from this dim earth-veiling may have heard the 

happy call 
Of father, mother, children, love-clasped together, all! 
But O the sight so pitiful! I wept for grief away 
This night of desolation; and Oh! I tried to pray 
"Thy will be done." As oft uprose those lines 
Of phantom pageants passing, I tried to think to 

climes 
Where sorrow never enters; and the vale of peaceful 

rest 
Lies but a hand-breadth parting, between this and the 

blest! 
For all my eyes were blinding with tears as up, 

away, 

1 scanned the peaceful heavens, where clouds wept out 

the day, 



SONGS AND POEMS. 153 

And brooded silence over, as never wing- of death 
Had swept its dark, deep pinions down where the pines' 

low breath 
Drops all the year around an arrow for each tomb; 
Where the rose of love on mem'ry's immortal heights 

shall bloom, 
While son^s of mortal beings re-echo through the skies 

o o o 

With the prayers, " Spare earth, O Heaven! Such 
scenes n'ermore arise." 



VOICES. 



O, is a sigh falling, 

Where the air breathes cold, 
Or a bird-note calling 

For love to enfold ? 



Are there speaking voices 
We knew not nor hear, 

Forgotten and hidden 
In the closeted year? 



How many, I wonder, 
Are fated to perish 

For want of a hearing 

Or fond word to cherish ! 



154 HAftP OF HESTER. 

O, out of the voices, 
So dumb to the ear 

Of the world, I wonder 
Which one is most dear? 



Wealth fondles, but fleeting-; 

If only one stay, 
Fame soundeth so hollow, 

Let love rule alwav. 



SONG. 
/ know a clime. 

I know a spot in a lovely dell, 
15 nt O it's far away ! 

Where the birds, dear birds, are singing well 
Are singing ever bright and gay 
Bright and gay, bright and gay — 
Are singing ever bright and gay. 



There's many a spot, I mark me well, 
And birds sing sweet alway, 

But the birds, dear birds, of that far dell 
Arc singing loving songs to-dav 
Loving soiigs, loving songs- 
Are singing loving songs to-day. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 155 

I know a clime that is bright and fair, 

Where never care disturbs, 
And the songs, sweet songs, are welling there, 

Are welling there in loving words — 

Loving words, loving words — 

Are welling there in loving words. 

O rove with me in this bright clime? 

The clime where naught disturbs, 
And the songs, sweet songs, are keeping time 

To thoughts of love, and loving words; 
Keeping time, keeping time, 

To thoughts of love and loving words. 



THESE DAYS. 

Summer again roves in the skies, 
And falls as softly through the haze 

Down to fond earth, as though with sighs 
She loathsome leaves, and loves these days. 

Low breathe the sun-kissed winds afar, 
The morning's glow blends into haze, 

And Night o'er Earth dots out each star 
On gauzes that have bound these days. 

Still steps fair Night with gentle tread, 
And spangles all the low land ways 

In frosty white, where Summer, fled, 
Re-visits Earth to charm these days. 



156 HARP OF HESPER. 



THE SPELL OF BEAUTY. 

My lady sleeps! while morning hours 
Touch up with rose her dainty cheeks; 

New wine of life fond Nature pours, 
And mantling beauty love bespeaks. 



Love, little god, sly nestles down, 
And smoothes out every line of care, 

Brushes away each shade of frown, 

Hv tinting her dreams more sweet and fair. 



My lady sleeps, for beauty's sake, 

While softened light streams from above. 

Disturb her not! speak not, nor break 
The soft-winged angel's spell of love. 



The time speeds on! why should she care 
On every sound the spell is wrought, 

E'en silence broods throughout the air, 
And lingers o'er her couch unsought. 



The draperies by the windows bend, 
As weighted by the silence all, 

And far-off tread of beings lend 

Their echoing sounds of sandaled fall. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 157 

Her room is beautiful to see! 

With costly lace and cushioned seat, 
And on the floor the tapestry 

Is soft in shadowings, wedded neat. 

Around, her bric-a-brac is placed, 

The treasures of some distand land; 
An artist's hand has finely chased, 

And thus quaint sentinels they stand. 



These emblems of her servant's look; 

And monitors to bid time fall, 
As silently as from each nook 

They can be seen, but ne'er can call 



O, silvr'y is the silence there! 

And soft the sunshine peeps 
In morning hours, so rosy, fair, 

For beauty's sake my lady sleeps! 

Disturb her not! the dream is sweet, 
There is no want to be expressed, 

No children come with pattering feet, 
And urge her to be up and dressed. 

Why should she waken from her dreams? 

But hush! she stirs, the lips tale-tell, 
Some pleading friend is there, me-seems, 

To seal with love, fond Beauty's spell. 



158 HARP OF HESPER. 



ANGELUS BELLS. 

O'er the vast plain at bending eventide, 

Two travelers burdened went their weary way, 
Each in the other's loving thought secure abide, 

But plod with heavy steps the same path o'er, where 
Day 
Has dipped so many times for them the rosy west; 

Has hung so many times for them the shining bow, 
And tipped on sky's fair blue the silver crest 

Of Harvest Moon! Bent with some heavier burden 
now, 
They lag behind with seeming sense oppressed, 

Yet happy in the sky's far-mingling glow, 
They pause to catch the charm; and half intent to rest, 
When, lo! upon the air as anthem tones' sweet flow 
Rings Angelus. Dear Heaven! they bend their heads, 
they bow, 
And pause as statues riveted close there, 
Held by the heavenly spell of earth, the sky, and bells, 
Lost to the burdened sense of time, or space and care, 
Each soul the stronger clasped, as Musics' sweet tone 
swells, 
And wrapped in holy hush of Christ's unuttered 
prayer. 

O bowed heads! O hush of holy hour! 

The travelers burdened not now are by heavy toil, 
And bound not are to earth by work's ignoble power 

In any thought, or deed, the willing hands not soil. 



SONGS AND POEMS. 159 

Thus take their burden up again, and cheerful travel on, 
All knowing that from Heaven should fall a blessed 
dower, 
If on the path of life His work it were well done, 
And from some hidden nook might spring to light a 
flower, 
And angels strike a harp, as Angelus rang on! 

So raised their thoughts from earth as spirit-beings 
soar, — 
So ringing it sang on. Into the purpling day 

The travelers went far, where fell the setting sun; 
Still heard the bells of Angelus, as echoes die away, 
And in their hearts were stilled not the holy spell, but 
gone 
The burdens they had carried, divinely helped were they. 
Thus closed the pathway homeward, as the sweet 
bells done, 
And evening's jeweled curtain dropped softly o'er their 
way. 

O soothing of the heavenly bells! Ye come, 

In hush of holy hour, when evening skies 
Drop o'er the peaceful toilers' humble home; 

Naught but the fear of dearth his soul denies, 
With thoughts that wander, and as vagrants roam 

In search of soul-food, whom, if man but cries 
To Heaven! the dear Lord hears, he knows his needs, 

His thirst for heavenly food, on high ; 
Rolls not His melody where the sparrow feeds! 

Praise God, O man! and sing, nor sigh. 



160 HARP OF HESPER. 

Praise Him all ye lands! for Angelus 

(Though days, months, years have circled by), 
Rings now, rings ever on the Christ in us, 

At morn, or in peaceful hush of the day's decline. 
List toilers! for it lifts your hearts to Heaven, 

But may breathe by palace, or hovel by lowly kine, 
And swell where the soul in its sins forgiven 

Has grasped in its struggle with those chords divine! 



MARIE. 

I'm thinking on thy life, Marie! 

And the days that are past and gone, 
When thou wert journeying far from me 

In a glorious world of song. 

O, sweet the dream! but not for me, 

To journey by thy side, 
To sail, as on Life's blissful sea, 

And stem with thee the billowy tide. 

But yet I have no vain regrets; 

Thou art too dear by far 
To languish for a star that sets 

In gloom, beneath Grief's pallid bar. 

Were I that star, and couldst thou come 
To view with me Love's evening skies, 

Though deep in gloom my star were set, 
I'd break to view thy glorious eyes! 



SONGS AND POEMS. 161 

O, but, Marie, I'm thinking still 

Of hopes too sweet to fade— to die, 

Of songs that flow, and thoughts that fill 
My soul with dreams to soar, and fly! 

And when thy spirit sighs for rest, 

As though a heavenly dove 
Should seek within my heart its nest, 

And fold its beating wings of love: 

Thus folded on this heart, Marie, 
When rude storms wreck the way; 

O to this haven of rest to flee ! 

I should but die, couldst thou not stay. 



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